Remember When It Rained
by The Dancing Cavalier
Summary: Thranduil must with the death of his wife. Legolas must learn to enjoy his new found gift. AU. Chapter 11. VERY LAST CHAPTER. ENJOY!
1. Exposition

Hi everyone,

This is my very first LOTR fic (**SO BE NICE**). Ever since i saw all of the LOTR, i wanted to know more about legolas. I admit, Orlando is handsome...**coughs **well more then that, but his potrayal of Legolas was very shallow in certain places. I read all the 'historic' books of Middle Earth, "similarion" ect... but it all held very little info about Legolas or his family. Then i discover the wonderful world of LOTR fanfic, where imagination is key to history. I immediatly fell in love with many of the stories.

But one story which i think is so FUNNY, so WELL WRITEN, such BRILLANT DEVELOPMENT OF CHARACTOR is Jasta Elf's "The Scruff Factor" If you have the time please go read that story and review. It is exceptionally brillant, very well written and utterly halirious. This girl truly has a brillant mind...I do wish i had her writing talent.

**Please review**...I am going through alot of stress, and i know everyone out reading is to. Let me describe my life

A) switching schools

B) dad out of a job

C) My only sister is getting married, we're having the reception at OUR HOUSE. WHICH MEANS CLEANING...COOKING...CLEANING!

Okay...that's a little bit of my life. But a review really really really **REALLY** does brighten up my day. Especially when it's a sweet review. For all those people out there who take time to write reviews, and choose their words...thank you, from the bottom of writers hearts. It's people like you that make us want to write more. So please...**REVIEW!** I beg of you...even if you don't like the first chapter, which i even admit is quite boring...but it's describing everything that's going to go on later.

Please review, even if it's badly written...in my opinion, some of the best books are only interesting in the middle-the end. Don't leave the author in the first chapter just because there first chappie wasn't interesting. Be nice...stay on a chappie or two...then if you hate it...don't flame it. Just leave.

Quick question for those who are actually reading this...WHY THE HECK IS THRANDRUIL'S NAME NOT ON A PAIRING WHEN YOU CREATE A STORY? HE'S A MAJOR CHARACTOR...sortave...

**AHEM**

**Rating: K+for this chapter MAYBE T later on, but i doubt it**

**About: Thrandruil and Legolas. Tolkien never spoke of what happened to Legolas's mom. This is my theory. This is a father and son pairing. There is no slash!**

**Charactors of the Entire story: Legolas, Thrandruil, Elranna Legolas mom, Galadriel, Celeborn, Elrond, Glorfindel, Haldir, Celebrian, possibly young Elladan and Elhorir. (more tolkien charactors may follow)**

**Warnings: In this chapter, none. But later on there is angst. **

**Written to: Get rid of stress. But this isn't a crappy 'high on sugar' story...i really did think this through.**

**This belongs to tolkien...ect...ect...i don't own anyone except...the people i made up...which people can borrow, i just don't know why they would want to do that.. buuuuuuuuuuuut, this is all tolkien copyright charactor. I can't kill anyone off that he didn't kill. **

**I had to change this chapter to fit with later chapters, so sorry for having to reupdate and all.**

Chapter 1

A cry rang out in the forest. It was the cry of a young elleth, in labor, with no comfort near. This elleth's name was Elranna. Elranna, in the sight of most, looked young, and certainly had a spirit younger then her looks. But she nevertheless married. To the second most powerful elf in all of Greenwood the Great, his name was Thrandruil.

His father was Oropher, a powerful king. Set to protect and prosper the land of the fair Silvan elves of Greenwood. Oropher never knew of the ties between his only son and the daughter of a carpenter. Should he had known, he never would have allowed it. Oropher was a proud and stubborn king, and he would not let one of his _ulilion_ (son) to marry a Silvan, when he and all his line was Sindar.

Thrandruil once wittingly asked his father, what he would do if he happened to fall in love with a Silvan lady. His father answered seriously, He would kill her, in cold blood. Thrandruil knew his father would, after his Naneth had left to sail over the seas to Valinor, Oropher had lost his heart, but his pride disallowed him from fading. Oropher could kill anything, and not feel remorse. He ruled the people with misjudgment, but the elves of fair Greenwood, never knew any different, and accepted the taxes and destruction without protest.

Thrandruil never forgot what his father had said, and kept his marriage to the love of his immortal life a secret. The only elves that knew of it were Elranna's parents. He took ever precaution to ensure the safety of his wife. He had built a summer home for himself, without his Ada's knowledge. Thrandruil built it within site of the palace, high up in a tree. The tree house was quite large; it had over three stories, with adequate covering, and four ways to exit.

After Elranna and Thrandruil had been married for several hundred years, Elranna began to yearn for company. Thrandruil could not fulfill this need, for if he left the palace to often, he would be suspected and his father would call on an 'investigation'. It was true that Elranna was quite lonely, except for the occasional company of her parents. She could not make friends with anyone, for fear her secret would be revealed. For the next few years, every time Thrandruil managed to sneak away to her, Elranna begged him for a child.

Thrandruil at first was uncomfortable of the idea. He could be a Prince, a warrior, a husband…but a father? Could he take on that role and perfect it as his other conducts? After Elranna pressed, whined, and nearly drove him to pure insanity, Thrandruil gave in.

Twelve months later, and the child were ready to be born, but sure as Valinor he wasn't. The father was never aloud in the birthing chambers, and the cries of pain of his precious wife made it unbearable. He paced the floor ragged. Elranna's father Darius sat on a chair and was reading a book.

"For the love of the Valar Thrandruil, stop pacing, your giving me a rare headache only caused by one of my wife's torture treatments."

Thrandruil stopped and turned and stared at him, his face nervous but his eyebrow raised in a princely fashion. Darius sighed; the facial expressions of the prince had always unnerved him. He laid down his book momentarily.

"If my Maryniska is angry at me, she knows that if she gives me the 'silent treatment' I'll enjoy it, considering she is always talking. So she gives me the 'talk about everything in all of Arda until I fade' treatment."

Thrandruil shook his head, he always found Elranna's parents a bit odd. He continued to pace the ground, suddenly, Elranna's screams ceased. Thrandruil's eyes widened in horror as his mind raced at what could have occurred. Then a high-pitched wale of a newborn filled the abode.

Thrandruil could wait no longer and burst into the room, his eyes first fell on his wife. She lay on the bed, obviously exhausted, but nevertheless alive. Thrandruil turned his eyes to the right, to the arms of his mother in law holding his son. Something in Thrandruil shifted as his eyes glanced for the first time his child. The child was shrieking loudly, obviously discontented at the sudden change of environment.

Thrandruil walked over, his walk the walk of a high born, he slowly took his son out of the arms of the grandmother, listening carefully to the instructions, as Elranna dozed off. As soon as his son had been placed in his arms, his child's crying ceased, and his eyes opened up, revealing crystal clear blue eyes. Immediately their spirit bonded, and the Valar knitted a close tie between them, for they would soon need each other. A green leaf flew in through the window, carried by the invisible wind; it landed at the feet of Thrandruil. A name flew to his mind.

"Greenleaf…" he whispered. "Legolas Thranduilion. That will be your name."

Indeed young Legolas was rightly name. As he entered into the world he became an Elf of the Twightlight. And the twighlight was soon to bring great terror and destruction to this little family.

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Well...did you like it any? if You hate it don't flame...just leave. Please be kind, don't leave this page without reviewing. Even if it's just three words like. "I like it." or "That was okay.." or something ...ANYTHING! I would greatly appreciate a little encouragment and getaway from my stressfull life.

Remember, anyone who's good at grammar...if you like the story please consider being my beta. If you don't like it later on, u can just leave. Trust me...i won't hate you. People haven't been very nice in the later chapters. So be nice and continue to read & review!


	2. Communication With A Wolf

Hi everyone…again! I've had to reload the chapter. Apparently there is a NEW rule out that you can't post reviewer responses in your story. So I've had to delete and upload the doc. ALRIGHTY...

Thanks to ALL the reviewers who have already reviewed for this chapter. And of course the last one. I really do appreciate you all. You make me sooo very happy. Not many people have wanted to review in this chapter. But that's okay, I still plan to write and post after the holidays. I love my reviewers very very very much! And I will just have to PM (private message) you to thank you for your very kind reviews. Thanks Nieriel Raina for telling me this!! I would be completely clueless about this new rule. Because of her telling me, I can continue to post this story and have an account.

Please review!! If you have any constructive criticism about this story...then please criticize in a nice way. I don't mind if you tell me what I'm doing wrong, just do it nicely.

Because of the brilliant Mistopurr this chapter is going out without any mistakes and more description. She made the story sound so much better. Thanks you!! She also has a new story out, so everyone if you have a chance go read and review her. Not only is her story very smartly plotted, but also there is allot of middle earth knowledge put behind it. So if you like a well written story...go read hers.

Again, please review to the starved author. You know how happy reviews make you if you are writer, and if you're not, let me tell you how very MUCH it brightens up my day.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!! (Happy hannukah.ect ... ECT.)

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Chapter 2 

Close to two years had passed since the birth of Legolas; already the child was walking, talking, playing, and filling his Naneth's life with happiness and company. Thranduil came as often as he could to the happy pair, his son's over-exuberance a pleasant change from the rarely escapable duties which weighed so heavily upon him. He was melodramatic, demanding all the attention he could grab, much like his father. But graceful even as a toddling Elfling, he took after his mother. His bright blue eyes were the color of a river after a light shower; when the sediment is settled down, the river takes on a bright blue color, and such were Legolas' eyes.

One day later in the evening, the only hours they had to themselves, they decided to go on a picnic in the meadow a few minutes walk from their abode, though Thranduil and Elranna were sure that Legolas would most likely curl up and take a rather long nap. But his slumber would leave them to a delightful few hours by themselves. Legolas ran ahead, gaily reaching for the butterflies that flew around him. Thranduil had his arm offered to his wife who carried the picnic supplies in a basket nestled in the crook of her own arm.

"Legolas, stop!"

Immediately Legolas stopped in his tracks, and turned swiftly around to find a pair of hard eyes fastened unwaveringly upon him.

"Son, how many times have I warned you not to go too far ahead of us? What would happen if somebody kidnapped you, and because we were so behind we could never find you?"

Legolas' river blue eyes widened even more, and he furrowed his brow, thinking greatly upon the matter. He did this often whenever a question arose, his face would become horribly contorted as he drew his dark eyebrows together and contemplated deeply…well as deeply as an Elfling could. Elranna nudged her husband with her elbow in amusement; Thranduil was often quite stern with Legolas. He was gone much and knew that Elranna spoiled the boy hopelessly; in his opinion, his child must have 'backbone.'

Legolas answered after a few minutes of deliberation, "But you said you'd never let anything happen to Nana and me, and you alllllllllways keep your promises."

Thranduil's jaw dropped in surprise, though he promptly shut it. "Stay in sight, Legolas," he reminded gently.

Legolas offered a large, childish grin and ran ahead, once again out of sight. Thranduil shook his head in feigned despair. "Does he make it a point to disobey me El?"

At the nickname, Elranna leaned against her husband. "He does not consciously do it, Thranduil. Give him time. He is only an Elfling."

Thranduil smiled, one of his rarest smiles that she treasured deeply in her heart. "He's our leafling."

Elranna laughed gaily.

"When_ I_ was an Elfling growing up…"

Elranna stopped him. "You were a prince growing up dear, Legolas is different; you had responsibilities, hardships, and with the tragedy of your mother leaving, you knew the pain of grief, even as a child. Legolas hasn't a care in the world, and I intend to keep him like that."

Thranduil smiled and pecked a kiss gently on her cheek.

"Thranduil, you should smile more." The other Elf raised one delicate eyebrow. "You are always so serious around Legolas…allow some light to shine through you…I know he captures it. He reflects you the way the moon does the sun."

They walked silently into the meadow to find Legolas sitting on the ground petting a ferocious looking wolf. But the wolf looked no more then a 'large dog' as Legolas small hands stroked its large ears.

Thranduil's eyes widened in surprise. Elves were known to communicate with animals, but never before they reached maturity. "Legolas…what are you doing?" he called, concern making the question louder than the distance between them demanded. Legolas turned his head and smiled at his parents, then turned his head back to the wolf in front of him. Thranduil came up slowly behind Legolas and kneeled next to him.

"Legolas, be careful. Animals are our friends, but you can't communicate with it yet. Why must you pet this animal's ear...it could hurt you?"

Legolas looked up. "I am not petting it, Ada. The dog had a scratch behind her ear and insisted I help. And do not worry, Ada, she will not harm me." The child's cherubic face broke out into a bright smile. "She says that I am the only Elfling that has ever heard her voice. We had a very nice conversation about her children. She says she only attacks when 'they' are near her."

"Who are 'they', Legolas?"

"She says they are big, dark, ugly, and talk mean."

"Orcs?"

Legolas thought a moment. "I suppose that's what you call them."

"Is this the first time you've talked with animals?"

Legolas shook his head. "I've always heard them, and the trees too, and they all have such pretty voices. They sing all the time."

For Thranduil this was too much to take in. Legolas stood up and waved as the wolf sat up and trotted off into the forest. He promptly sat on his father's lap; the older Elf's mouth had been unconsciously hanging wide open at this revelation. Legolas leaned up and whispered in his father's ear, though not so quietly that his mother could not easily pick up the conversation.

"The trees say it's going to rain…"

Thranduil looked at him. "Do you think so, Legolas?" A determined nod. Thranduil returned the gesture. "You are right, son, the east wind is connecting with the wind of the south. Rain is in the air…" Thranduil kissed his forehead. "Go on, we came here for you to enjoy yourself; go and play."

Legolas nodded and went off as if nothing had happened as Elranna laid out the food.

"Is it possible," she whispered, as Thranduil's bright eyes followed their son. "that one so young can hear the voice of the trees?"

"With the Valar all is possible," Thranduil answered, giving her one of his thoughtful smiles.

"Nana!" Legolas called as he toddled over, his hands cupping a treasure. "I want to give you something."

Elranna smiled slyly at Thranduil and kneeled down to eye level with her son. "Is it something slimy?" Legolas shook his head. He had a redundant nature of always wanting to give his mother everything he caught, from mosquitoes to frogs to worms.

"Is it ugly?" Legolas shook his head, blonde tendrils of hair flying in different directions.

"Hold out your hands Nana…please," he begged.

"And why should I do that?"

Legolas thought for a moment, inhaled loudly and puffed up his chest. In a close imitation of his father, he said, "Because I told you so." At the sound of choking coming from Thranduil's direction, he turned accusing eyes that way. "You do it all the time to Nana."

Thranduil shook his head. "I do not pull rank on your mother, Legolas. And besides, that's different…much different."

Legolas sighed loudly. "You're so confusing…"

Thranduil chuckled. "I think the same of you, my little Greenleaf."

The child flashed a delighted smile at the sound of his nickname, before turning back to his mother. "Please, Mama?" Looking up at her through lowered eyelids received a tender smile, eagerly returned.

"Alright, my little mockingbird, show me." She held out her hands in reply to Legolas very slowly opening his own. Inside was a beautiful orange butterfly. Elranna gasped.

"Legolas, be gentle, you could hurt it!"

Legolas shook his head. "He would tell me if I was hurting him."

He opened up his hand fully and the butterfly flapped its wings, but did not fly off. It hovered over Legolas' hand and then flew into Elranna's. It landed and stayed for a while before making its departure. Legolas immediately plopped back into Thranduil's lap, almost making him spill his glass of wine. "Careful, Legolas…" Thranduil warned him as he placed his hand on the child's shoulder.

Legolas leaned against his father, obviously tired and in dire need of a nap.

"Is my little Greenleaf tired?"

Legolas shook his head, and rubbed his eyes. "Ada?"

"Yes, Legolas."

"Why did you name me Legolas?"

Thranduil's perfect Elvish memory went back to two years ago, when his son was born.

"When I held you in my arms for the first time…" Legolas snuggled against his father's chest. "A green leaf floated in through the window. The name Legolas is a Silvan dialect form of pure Sindarin _Laegolas_, which means Greenleaf."

Legolas nodded sluggishly, nearly asleep. Thranduil stroked his hair. Though Legolas was emotionally and mentally developed as a six-year-old human child, he was smaller then most other Elflings his age. But he did not seem to mind; he knew that he would grow up into being as graceful and powerful as his Ada.

Thranduil held Legolas close, while he and his wife shared soft and loving words in Sindarin. After a while, Thranduil laid Legolas gently on the picnic blanket and wrapped him with his cape. The Elfling slept on, peacefully.

"El…" Thranduil called, opening his arms. Elranna moved gracefully over to him and laid her head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Thranduil played with her hair, twisting it slowly in his fingers.

"Do you think he's imagining the communication with…nature?" Elranna asked. Thranduil shook his head.

"How could he know about Orcs? There aren't any children his age around him, and we've never spoken of them. He always was so gentle to animals; and remember in the garden, a few months ago, he had fallen asleep on the large roots of a tree. Perhaps he was speaking to it."

Elranna shook her head, "I simply cannot believe it. No Elfling has ever spoken with nature, not in all of history. No Silvan or Sindar elf has ever spoken to trees before reaching maturity."

"Hush darling…" Thranduil placed his finger on her lips. "We mustn't doubt his abilities. It is obvious he can hear their song."

He slipped his finger off of her lips and leaned in for a kiss. A loud clap of thunder, high above, jolted them from their passion, and also caused Legolas to jerk awake. He looked around, Thranduil closely watching his response. He gazed up as the lightening lit the sky; his eyes grew brighter and turned almost white, as he watched.

"Come, we don't want to get caught in the downpour," Thranduil murmured, reaching out to his wife and son.

Legolas took his father's hand as he stood up. Elranna began to gather the various objects of food, but Legolas' eyes remained fixed upon the sky. Thranduil picked him up gently, holding him, watching. The trees began to move, but there was no wind to move them. It almost seemed as if they were trying to usher the small family home. The tree's song reached Thranduil, even though he was not in contact with any.

"_Run home, father of the young listener, run home. Protect him, comfort him, he will defend Arda." _

The voice faded into nothing but the wind making the branches undulate. Legolas laid his head on his father's strong chest. "I want to go home," he whispered. "The trees are angry…something happened."

Thranduil nodded and took Elranna's hand in his, leaving the meadow with more haste than they had come. As only contained in their worse nightmares, the secret of Thranduil's family, his wife, child and home…had been discovered.

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	3. Murder rerereloaded

I realize that many of you will think this is an update (hides behind a rock) DONT KILL ME!! I've been reading some rules ect...and i realized that i have not said:

_**This story is not mine, this all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. I own nothing...except...a few charactors.**_

(AHEM)

NOW...if you guys haven't noticed.. i have plagerized (Hides from rotten tomatoes) Yes it is true..two of the lines in this chapter is stolen from "The Princess bride" Don't kill me..

I promise i'll update very ... very...SOON!! THIS WEEK!! 

FOR THE THIRD TIME I"VE REPOSTED THIS CHAPTER I want to thank my AMAZING beta

**_Mistopurr_**

Go read all her stuff and review it, she is a wonderful author at heart. She has deep knowledge of the Middle Earth World, downright a genius if you ask me...and a geek, (NO OFFENCE) but we all come from our own different planets.

I would like to thank all my very kind reviewers, some of the reviews were so long and heart felt it almost made me cry (wipes away tear):

janet , MDarKspIrIt, twentyonenine, Nieriel Raina, jen, ShinigamiSaisei, Gord and V, TheStoryGypsy, LupinandHarry, somekindasuperstar and Annaeth, Lupinandharry, somekindasuperstar, Ampria, nick, sky14, and julie. I love you very very very muuuuuuuch! (gives you all a big hug and a cookie, and some chocolate)

I got more reviewers then I did in my first chapter, that made me a very very very happy person.

There is a little gruesome detail and such, and maybe it goes to "T" rating...but i doubt it. Just warning you, there is a character death in this chapter. (GRINS INSANELY) Did i mention that this story is an angst??

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Chapter 3

Several months had passed since the wolf incident, and no matter how innocently Legolas proclaimed his hearing of the trees, Elranna would not believe it, could not find it within herself to accept that something so impossible could be true of her son. In an attempt to calm her of those vehement protests, Thranduil had escaped from the palace and stayed with them for nearly a week.

Now, six days on, it was time for him to go. He was to represent his father in the Council of Lothlorien, where a decision would be made concerning the inescapable matter of Sauron and his One Ring. Oropher's stubborn pride did not permit him to attend a gathering of lesser beings, so he sent his son in his stead. Little did Thranduil know the true reason of his representation in Lothlorien, although the truth would soon become blindingly clear in ways he had never even seen in dreams.

It was late at night, the moon had begun to rise, and even as Legolas slept, Thranduil was taking his goodbyes. Letting his son awake when he was gone; the partings were always easier that way.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wake Legolas? You'll be gone for over a month…" Elranna asked.

Even as she spoke, the door to Legolas' room opened, revealing a wide-eyed elfing.

"Ada?" Legolas spoke as his bare feet slowly pattered across the floor, rubbing his eyes. His hair was tousled and garments wrinkled, though he had only been asleep an hour

"Are you leaving?"

Thranduil nodded. "For a while, little greenleaf, for a while."

"Please don't go ada…stay with us." His eyes begged, as much as his words.

Thranduil shook his head. It nearly broke his heart to leave his child, even for just a month. "I can't stay, Legolas. I have to go."

Legolas offered his arms up, obviously wanting to be lifted, which Thranduil gratifyingly obliged.

"Don't leave us ada…" Thranduil sighed. "Legolas, I have…"

"Something bad will happen," Legolas cut in.

Thranduil studied his eyes. They often gave answers where the child did not. "What have the trees been telling you?"

Legolas laid his head against his father's chest. "They've been whispering ever since I fell asleep, 'he knows'."

"Who knows?" Thranduil frowned.

Legolas shrugged in return. "I don't know, they just keep repeating 'he knows'."

Thranduil's eyes widened as realization slammed into him.

"Oropher…" He whispered, barely loud enough for his child or wife to hear. "Elranna," he spoke, immediately moving into action. "Pack Legolas and your things. I'll bridle your horse. I want you to ride straight to your parents."

Elranna nodded slowly; even though she thought her son was making up tales, it was better safe then sorry. She sprang into action, throwing clothes and such into a large satchel. Legolas scampered to his room and grabbed his favorite toy, a horse; his father had carved it for him on his second name day. Thranduil bridled her horse quickly. He saw the both up onto the swift animal.

"I don't have to time to ride with you to your parents house, but promise me, you'll go straight there." Elranna nodded, she hadn't said a word during the entire bustle.

Thranduil pecked her on the lips. "I love you."

"I know," Elranna smiled.

Thranduil's heart was beating in terror of what could happen, if his son was right that Oropher had found out. He leaned over and kissed his only child's forehead, then promptly mounted his horse. "Goodbye Elranna, Legolas."

"Bye Ada," Legolas whispered. Thranduil turned his horse and galloped further into the forest. Elranna turned her own mount in the opposite direction and headed towards her mother's. The wind began to get cold, and though the cold did not affect her, Legolas was still an elfing, and her mother instinct took over.

"Legolas, check the satchel, see if there's a thick tunic or coat." Legolas carefully searched the satchel. His hands began to shake; it wasn't the cold that made him shiver, but the sense of evil around him.

"Nana," he whispered, slightly quivering. "Something bad is out there." Doriath, Elranna's horse, sniffed the air and neighed nervously. Elranna's gray eyes searched the area, sensing the malevolence as well. She immediately turned the horse around.

"No Nana, not back to the house!" Elranna ignored him and kicked Doriath with her heels, sending the horse into a mad gallop away from there. An arrow overshot her by an inch and slammed into the trunk of the tree ahead of her. She did not take the time to notice that it was not an orc arrow that narrowly missed her, but the arrow of an elf.

Elranna pushed her horse harder, until she reached their tree. She promptly grabbed Legolas and dragged him up the ladder, despite his protests. Elranna slammed the door shut and locked it, then frantically went around shutting and bolting all the windows and doors. Legolas leaned against the couch next to the main entrance; his shivering became more obvious. Elranna turned to look at him.

"Oh darling…" She immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him, cuddling him in her arms. Legolas continued to shiver, "Naneth…we should leave." Elranna shook her head.

"We'll leave in the morning, when the sun rises." Legolas pushed himself away from his Nana.

"No, nana, we need to go now!"

Elranna's eyes widened. "Legolas! How dare you raise your voice to me!"

Legolas backed away; he had never been yelled at before, only sternly reproached. "Nana, please…" he whispered. "We must go." The sound of a galloping horse entered in from the east, the same direction Thranduil had sped off to, not long before.

"See...your father forgot something as well." Elranna walked to unlatch the door. The trees screamed at Legolas to stop her.

"Nana, No!" Legolas threw himself at Elranna. "Nana, you can't open the door, please, don't."

"Legolas…what in Mandos' name is wrong?" The child's sharp hearing picked up the sound of footsteps, too close to not invoke almost paralyzing fear in him. They did not belong to his father.

_"Hide, young one…hide yourself...before it gets to late."_

"Nana, hide, please hide with me." Legolas grabbed his mother's hand and tried to pull her away from the door.

Elranna rolled her eyes. "If you want to hide, then go ahead."

_"Hide, Legolas, Hide_!"

The trees whispered loudly in Legolas' head, a symphony of nature.

Legolas looked frantically around for a place to hide and dove under the couch; it had a long enough slip to cover nearly to the ground. He scooted himself as far away from the opening as possible and leaned against the wall. Elranna unlatched the door; a wind blew harshly against the tree house, trying to knock the evil that climbed up the ladder.

Elranna threw open the door, throwing all caution to the wind. The person she expected to see was not there, but instead stood another elf, eerily similar to him. A hood hid his face, and he stepped forcefully inside the front room, slamming the door behind him with one booted foot.

He yanked down the hood to reveal blonde hair and deep gray eyes. He strikingly resembled someone, someone very dear to all of them.

"What is your name?" He spoke in a voice colder than any winter night, a sound glacial in itself. The anger and hate deeply welling up within this elf was oozing out of him

"Elranna, daughter of Maryniska and Darius..."

"…wife of Thranduil, Prince of Greenwood."

"How do you know this?" She spoke, her voice quivering. She slowly stepped back, her hands placed behind her back reaching for a sharp object.

"Because I, my dear, am his father!" Oropher lashed out at her, a backhand fuelled by rage. Elranna fell to the ground under such a powerful blow, and tried to crawl away. _Tried._

The sound of flesh contacting flesh created a sound that Legolas, underneath the settee, flinched at. He pushed himself farther against the wall, praying silently to the Valar with all his might that this mad elf would not hurt his mother. Oropher continued to beat Elranna, with brutal force.

"You deceitful little whore! You will pay for this, just as much as he will!!"

He grabbed a handful of long hair and banged her head against the nearest wall. Bright red blood began to pour from her forehead, as though it had been waiting there all along. Elranna screamed as loudly as she could, hoping in vain that someone would hear her voice. Oropher pulled her up by the back of her dress.

"Hush…" Elranna struggled, but he held her tightly. "No-one will hear you…my son is far away…and you, my dear… will writhe in pain and in agony…and when he returns, you will be dead, with a dagger plunged into your heart."

Elranna whimpered, her eyes darting about frantically. They fell on the divan, which hid Legolas from sight.

"Tis the price to pay for a common woman marrying my son!"

Oropher threw her again to the floor; tears began to flow from Elranna's eyes as the knowledge that this was to be her end slammed into her. She went to her last resort. "Please, sir…please forgive me, I beg you, don't kill me." She begged him, but the desperate plea fell upon deaf ears.

"Silence, commoner. How dare you even think of speaking to me?" he roared, hitting her again.

Elranna's blood began to pour out of her head, almost blinding her eyesight. Her mouth filled with the liquid; it was so hard to see. Everywhere she looked was crimson stains. This was her end, and somehow, perhaps intuitively, she had always known she would die this way. Bravely, she looked up into Oropher's eyes.

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while. You can't hurt me. The bonds of love join Thranduil and me. And you cannot track that, not with a thousand bloodhounds, and you cannot break it, not with a thousand swords."

Oropher's icy eyes narrowed, a flicker mirrored in his weakened resolve to kill her. But then his eyes fell upon her finger; blood from her head wound dripped upon her hand, but he could still see the design. It was his wife's ring…how could this little under rank child be wearing his wife's ring? With more determination then ever, Oropher jerked her to her feet one more time.

"It may be true that you and Thranduil might be joined by the bonds of love, and then might have been forever happy. But I think it is you who will suffer the most for it."

Oropher drew out his sword and plunged it deep into her stomach. Elranna's eyes widened in horror, the pain almost seemed to over and through her consciousness, and rightly so: it was a deathblow. Slowly she fell to the ground, but she did not feel the impact, she did not hear Oropher's chuckle or see the glee in his eye. Her irises slowly focused on the lounge, she blinked her eyes as the darkness began to consume her.

"Legolas…" she whispered. Then…she faded, and her broken spirit flew unseen to Mandos' Hall, where the pain of her memories would exist a long time after healing.

Legolas pushed himself deeper against the wall and did his best not to cry, but oh it was so hard. Oropher kneeled down and yanked the wedding ring off her already cold finger. He slipped it into his pocket and pulled the sword out of her heart. He took out his short knife and began to carve letters into her dead skin. Even though she was dead, the blood that had already fallen onto the ground began to build up. The ground soon became covered in blood, rivers began to flow in different directions. One heading straight under the divan

Legolas' eyes focused completely on the blood, all the other red rivulets seemed to join it as it flowed to his secret hiding place. The trees whispered comfort to him, and spoke for him not to move; thankfully he didn't - even after the blood had puddled at his hands and slowly stained his leggings and tunic.

After what seemed like millennium of to Legolas, Oropher stood and wiped the sword on his leggings. The child's sharp ears and attuned senses picked up another horse; he knew it was not the mount of Thranduil. Another elf was climbing those steps as Oropher went to the door, too absorbed in his bloody work to know who was ascending the stairs.

He opened the door and his eyes flickered momentarily at the sight of one of his most trusted senior officers standing in the doorway.

"M'lord, we have been searching everywhere for you. Thank the Valar I found you, something terrible co…" His eyes fell upon the mutilated body of Elranna, his eyes widened considerably. Even as a senior officer he had to control himself to not expel his lunch.

Oropher lifted his chin. "This is none of your business, Commander," he said coldly. "Let us leave."

He grabbed Aramas' elbow and turned him around, but not before the officer noticed a slight vibration from the puddle of blood near a covered settee. Someone was under there, a child perhaps, that much he was sure of. But he went along with his king, though he was certain Oropher had killed the woman; for what reason he could not lay a finger on. Oropher had a profuse temper, everyone in all of Arda was aware of that. But surely his temper would not drive him to killing an innocent woman and mutilating her body? Could it?

It had begun to rain, heavily. It almost seemed that the clouds where crying for their poor prince. Legolas' salty tears slipped down his cheeks and fell in the crimson pools of blood, droplets which did nothing to shake the small lakes of his mother's life. His hands shook, inside he wanted to scream out for his father, but if he did that, he would be killed too.

Legolas closed his eyes tightly, trying to shut out the horrors of what had just occurred, and curled his knees to his chin, a position of comfort. Even as he closed his eyes the images of his mother's death and mutilation bombarded him without mercy. He choked in pure agony and cried out to his forest friends for help.

_"Call Thranduil, your father…"_ the trees whispered softly, trying to comfort their hurting elfling.

"Ada…" Legolas breathed. His voice held such desperation.

_"In your mind, Legolas…call him in your mind."_ The child closed his eyes and concentrated every fiber of his being, and upon picturing his Ada's face he called his name. Something flashed in his mind almost as if it had been unchained. A horrible pain in his head came upon him for an instant, though it left as soon as it had entered. Suddenly he could feel his father's presence.

"Daddy…" he whispered again.

Thranduil rode through the forest, his heart racing with every step he took farther from his home and family.

"I have a bad feeling about all of this," he mumbled to himself. Suddenly a sharp pain penetrated his skull, an agony so deep that all of his experience as a rider could not keep him upon his horse. The pain was blinding. His horse nudged him, he felt the pressure against his arm, but the pain… that Valar forsaken pain was excruciating.

Then….it just disappeared. Thranduil opened his eyes; he shook his head slightly and looked around. _"Daddy…"_ he heard Legolas whisper, it sorrounded him. He whipped around, pulling out his bow and arrow, making a full turn. It had begun to rain, it had appeared out of nowhere. The silver droplets fell harder and harder. There was neither lightening nor thunder, there did not even seem to be clouds, but it was raining…hard.

_"Ada…"_ he heard Legolas's voice whisper again, this time he focused deep inside his mind.

_"Please come back…"_ This was all the prompting Thranduil needed, even if he was imagining things. He jumped nimbly on his horse and sped home.

* * *

Well?? How did you like it, I know i'm evil... i killed Legolas's mum...but she had to disapear sometime. Thank you for re-re-reading the same chapter. I AM SO SORRY...but please be nice and if you've never reviewed, but i'm on your Favs. or Alerts...take sixty seconds and **REVIEW!! **


	4. Return Home

**EVERYONE READ THIS:**

**THE REASON I UPDATED THREE TIMES THE EXCACT SAME CHAPTER WAS BECAUSE **

**I. THE COMPUTER UPDATED IT**

**II. I REALIZED MY STORY WOULD BE DELETED IF I DIDN'T ADD DISCLAIMER ECT. ..**

So please.. .I'm very sorry if this annoyed you.

Once again as I do every single chapter. My amazing beta MISTOPURR betaed this for you guys, making it what it is now, more presentable to read. She's awesume, please go read and review her stuff!!

I want to thank all of my precious reviewers.

God and V, Dreamer11563, ... , TheStoryGypsy, Halatir, Anariel Goldenarrow, LupinandHarry, somekindasuperstar, ShinigamiSaisei, Ampria,  
nick, sky14, julie, MDarKspIrIt.

AND THANK YOU TO ALL THE KIND PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO READ MY STORY BUT FAILED TO REVIEW IT! (Glares)

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Chapter 4 

Thranduil urged his horse faster, even as the rain poured harder all around them. Finally after what seemed a lifetime to him, he stopped his horse at the base of his tree. Already another elf was climbing up the ladder; he feared it was one of Oropher's blindingly loyal officers. Using a feat he had often practiced as a child, he stood up on his obediently still horse's back, and jumped as high as he could onto the second platform, right behind the unknown elf. It was Aramas who turned around, with wide eyes.

"Caun…(prince)...what are you doing here

Thranduil gritted his teeth, water pouring down his face like tiny waterfalls. "What in the name of the Valar are you doing here, Aramas? Following one of Oropher's orders again?"

Aramas stood at a loss of words. "Caun, I didn't…" He continued to talk, but Thranduil's eyes focused on something else, a red liquid dripping from the floor of the entrance.

"Oh Elbereth." He shoved Aramas aside and ran up the further flights of stairs, leaving the officer only half way through his explanation. He immediately followed, and watched as the prince threw open the door to reveal the mutilated body of his love.

Thranduil sharply inhaled, "Elranna…" His eyes widened in pure dread, the worst thing imaginable had occurred. Upon Elranna's disfigured body was written:

_"You took away from me my only love. Now I take away yours"_

Thranduil closed his eyes in revulsion, but fear for his child overtook it just a second later. His son, where was his son? .

"Legolas," he whispered. "Legolas, where are you?" He looked around the room, desperate to see his son. A rustling came from under the divan and Legolas crawled out. His front tunic and hands covered in blood, his cheeks covered with fresh and old tears.

"Oh Valar…" Thranduil immediately rushed to Legolas and held him at arms length. "Is this…your blood?"

Legolas shook his head and burst into a new set of tears. Thranduil enveloped the child in his arms, the blood that would obviously stain his attire horribly visible to his eyes, but too far away in light of his pain to notice. Legolas' pitiful crying wrenched a knife deep within his heart. The grief of the loss of his wife hit him with such force, his strength or pride could no longer keep him from expressing the agony he felt.

As Legolas clutched his tunic, he wrapped his arms tighter around his son and his tears began to fall. Though the pain did not, could not lessen, Legolas took some comfort in his father's presence and relaxed into the strong arms. Thranduil seized the moment and gently placed his hand on Legolas forehead. He was gifted with the ability to put elves into a deep slumber. Thranduil did such with Legolas. The child went limp, his eyes closed tightly.

Thranduil slowly stood and carried him to his room. He changed Legolas' tunic and threw the other away; the stains would wash out, but that did not mean they would be invisible. After wiping the blood off of him, he left the room. Aramas had closed the door and sat on one of the nearest chairs, but he stood when Thranduil entered the room.

If Aramas had to describe the pain worn so openly upon his prince's face, he knew the words would not come to him . Thranduil looked as though he himself had died; his face was ashen and his eyes insanely bright. He sat slowly on a chair, unwilling to lay a finger on the destroyed body of his wife. Aramas had covered her half naked body with a white sheet and waited for Thranduil's order.

"My prince…Oropher did this."

Thranduil touched his temple, a stunned gesture in spite of the knowledge that burned inside of him. "I know, Aramas…I know. Come…let us bury my wife while my son sleeps. It would be better if he never saw her again. Not like this." Aramas stood slowly.

"Have long have you been married?"

Thranduil shook his head wearily. "Over 400 years."

Aramas closed his eyes. "I am sorry my prince…"

"Aramas, do not call me my prince any longer. "Were it not for the blood which flows through my veins, the blood which binds me to Greenwood and her people, I would cast aside all ties to Oropher." I will not ever return to my… the King's palace until justice is served."

"Thranduil, my loyalty will never lie with Oropher, my loyalty is with you. I will stand by your side. Please except my sword."

Aramas kneeled down upon the floor and offered his weapon to Thranduil. As was the custom of an elf to give another his loyalty, the blond immortal took the sword from his hand and barely touched his shoulder, before returning the blade to him.

"Thank you, Aramas." Aramas nodded and left to start work on the burial hole, a task he could not leave to the grieving elf before him. Thranduil reverently lifted Elranna into his arms and carried her down the stairs. The rain continued to fall; it never seemed to let up. He laid her down upon the ground, and said his farewells quietly.

"Elranna…" he whispered, tears mingling with the rain on his cheeks. "Forgive me for not staying…forgive me for not protecting you." There was no response, only silence. "I promise I'll protect Legolas, Elranna. I won't let anything ever happen to him. I swear it."

He wiped away the tears from his cheeks with the back of his sleeve. He began to weep, unabashed in the presence of his new companion. Aramas placed a hand on his shoulder, offering what comfort he could. The tears fell until there were no more left. Aramas handed Thranduil the burning torch to light the body, as was the custom of the day, but as he took it, realization slammed into him, and he thrust the flame back to Aramas. Leaning over his wife's body, he gently held the cold hand.

"The ring," he whispered. He searched her other limp hand, but yet nothing.

"Thranduil?"

Thranduil slowly offered an explanation. "My father gave to me long ago my naneth's ring, to give to the woman who was my equal, my wife. He took it back." Thranduil sighed. "I would give anything to have it back."

Aramas leaned down. "Sir…I can always return to the palace and retrieve it for you."

Thranduil shook his head. "Oropher would wear it around his neck, and you would be caught."

Aramas sighed and nodded slowly.

"Come, we must pack my things and Legolas', and go…somewhere, anywhere away from this place. I will never return to what I thought was my home, never."

With that word Thranduil took the torch out of Aramas' hand and threw it on the body. He could not bear to watch all that was left of his wife burn, so he returned to the tree he shared with Elranna and… No, just Legolas. The rain had not ceased, but had let up considerably. The sky remained dark, a blanket of night. Thranduil did not sleep, but instead sat on a chair with his hands clasped together. He thought of what he should do, and how he should put it into action.

"We cannot stay here," he thought aloud. "We must go somewhere else, somewhere away from Oropher. Somewhere where Legolas can be safe, and slowly heal from this…. brutal separation from his mother. But where?"

"We should go to the Lady of the Golden Woods." Thranduil looked up at his son in the doorway.

Aramas spoke. "Of course…Lady Galadriel, you are related to her, surely she would take you in. But where has Legolas heard of the Lady of the Galadhrim?"

The child walked over slowly and climbed into his father's lap. "The trees suggested it."

Legolas spoke so quietly, almost as soft as a mouse. It was so different from his usual boisterous chatter.

Aramas looked at Legolas queerly. "You hear their song already?"

Legolas nodded and cuddled into his Adar.

"Why did you wake, Legolas?"

"I didn't want to sleep alone." Thranduil nodded and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his forehead. "I love you, son."

"I love you."

"We will leave when the sun rises, Aramas." Thranduil picked up his son and returned to Legolas' room, to stay with him until their departure.

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I love everyone who read this chapter and liked it. NOW...PLEASE CONSIDER REVIEWING AND I'LL GIVE YOU A CYBERSPACE COOKIE!! HONEST I WILL!! Please tell me what you think!!!! And go read my Beta, Mistopurr's stories!! SEE YOU GUYS SOON!! 


	5. I miss her

Hi everyone!! I figured I might as well update since I have so much time on my hand because I'm sick. Yes I've contracted some deadly cold and had to stay home from school (not that I minded) so therefore I've finally updated.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Apparently nobody really enjoyed the last chapter because of the lack of reviews...(glares at all the 250 people who read but did not review) but for those who DID REVIEW...thank you very much.

DragonMistressSaiya, ... , Lord Makura, Ampria, Jedi Padfoot, LupinandHarry, Gord and V, Rebellwithoutacause. Thank you guys so much for reviewing! You guys just make my day (and would make my week if your reviews were longer and more detailed...) _grins insanely_

I do miss my two favorite reviewers though...somekindasuperstar and the story gypsy (wipes away tears) I will hope to hear from you in the next chapter.

Thanks to everyone who read this story (especially the people on my alert list) even though you guys didn't review, I still love you, and know that you're reading the story...even though your kind of invisible on the review charts.

As you can see I am trying to get people to the one thing that fanfic authors really care about...:REVIEWS! So please...do this sick author (yes, my mother thinks I have mono, but we don't know yet.)

As always I want to thank my beta mistopurr. She added a lot of stuff to this chapter that makes ten times more wonderful. I really do appreciate her. (gives her a big hug) Go read one of her stories. She has just started a new one about Thranduil.

NEW CHAPPPIIE!!

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The hastily planned journey to Lothlorien commenced as Anor rose, staining the sky with rivulets of red on a dawn canvas of purple and azure. Thranduil had gazed at them, transfixed, until his young son's high-pitched voice smashed into his reverie. The shades and hues reminded him all too much of the bloody scene he had witnessed the previous night. They brought back to him the bruises, the liquid life, the mutilation of his beloved wife's body; the body he would never see again, never touch again; the body he had buried beneath the boughs of their home and… He had forced those thoughts to a halt before grief took over.

Elranna's horse, one of his last physical memories of her, though not the most precious, held extra provisions as they rode on to their destination. Conversation was a rare thing. Legolas remained silent until he was addressed, and even then his answers were reluctant, tainted with sorrow and so much more. They stopped for rest when the sun was high in the sky, for the child's sake rather than anything else. Without him, the adults could have traveled for days with little rest, seeking it in the mystic slumber taken by Elves.

"Here, Legolas. Eat," Thranduil instructed, taking an apple from the pack and offering it to him. The boy just looked down and shook his head. "You must eat."

"I'm not hungry," Legolas mumbled.

"Please." Thranduil slid the apple underneath his son's nose, the blue pools of his eyes begging him to eat. Legolas turned his head away, clearly disgusted by the sight of food. It was often an Elf would refuse food as a sign of grief. But to some, it was a sign of much more: fading. Thranduil sighed dramatically and returned the apple to his pack, silently hoping that the display would conceive something in his child, anything. Nothing came. "Legolas…we need to talk about what happened."

Legolas closed his eyes, but not before a flash of new tears revealed themselves.

"It's my fault," he breathed, his voice broken.

Thranduil's own eyes narrowed, an attempt to hide his stretched emotions at the words. "Tell me what happened and then we will decide if it truly was your fault."

A barely perceptible nod came from the child. "Nana and I left the tree for grandfather's house, but somebody tried to hurt us so she turned the horse around back home. She locked the doors and barred the windows. It wasn't enough. The tree told me that evil was near, so I tried to get her to leave. But she wouldn't…. she wouldn't believe me." With the back of his sleeve, Legolas dashed his tears away and sniffed loudly. "Then…. he came. I tried to make Nana hide, but she didn't listen. The trees told me to hide, so I did… He came in and…. and…. killed her."

Legolas' body shook as it was wracked with silent sobs, and small hands flew upwards to cover his eyes and hide the silver grief in them. Thranduil wrapped strong arms around him, pulling him close to his chest and waiting, just waiting for the moment to pass. "Ion-nin…what would have happened if your mother had hidden?"

"He wouldn't have killed her," was the soft reply.

Thranduil shook his head. "Oropher would have searched every square inch of that tree, and if he found nothing he would have burned it to the ground. Then I would have lost both of you."

Legolas' own golden head moved from side to side, a mirror image of his father's gesture. "If you had lost both of us, you would have faded and joined us in the Halls of Mandos. At least there we could be together…"

"Then Oropher would have won," Thranduil sighed. As he spoke, his mind drifted towards an image of his family, whole and complete. Together.

"What do you mean?"

"Oropher's goal was to destroy everything dear to me, and then break me by using my emotions as a weapon. We cannot let him get the best of us. We are still a family, no matter how broken we are. If there is anyone to blame, Legolas, then blame me," the older Elf implored. "Not yourself."

Legolas looked up sharply. "You? But it wasn't your fau-

"I should have been there," Thranduil cut in. "I was supposed to protect you. And I failed…it is my fault."

The child's brow furrowed and he stared at the nearest tree in contemplation.

"It's Oropher's fault …he killed her. I blame him." His eyes, so struck with grief and confusion, filled with contempt and fresh tears. "I want her back."

"NANNNNNNNNA!"

Legolas' scream cut into his father like a thousand serrated blades. Thranduil held him tighter, the way he would a piece of debris in the ocean, and rocked him silently back and forth. He wished that he too could just let go and release the pain, which would not stop its attack on his very soul. He wanted so much to scream out his grief and sorrow when every mention of Elranna unstitched the very cords of his heart.

"I want her back, Ada! I want her back!" Overcome by too many emotions to understand, Legolas pounded small fists against his father's chest, hatred and anger running out of them.

It seemed an eternity before the tension fled his body and he allowed himself to just be held. Large tears continued to spill, and as they fell upon the soil beneath him, their potency gave birth to a new life. Centuries later the plant would be known as "A Grief Flower", a name that referred to its ever-wilting appearance. The pollen that dripped off the petals when they were in full blossom made it seem to be weeping.

Aramas returned to find Legolas slowly biting into a fresh apple. Somehow he knew that the worst part of the grieving had been dealt with, though years would pass ere it faded into nothing. As nightfall came upon them and the small child curled up on his pallet, asleep with his father watching over him, Aramas stoked the fire and watched Thranduil as he smoothed out his son's tousled hair.

"I think he is slowly realizing that it was not his fault Elranna died." Thranduil smiled fondly down at his Elfling.

"He is filled with such hope even after her death, and he is beginning to forgive himself," Aramas noted quietly. He hesitated, and gave the other immortal a sideways glance. "Sir, with no disrespect, Legolas may have forgiven himself, but have you done the same?"

Thranduil stiffened. "I will never forgive myself for failing in my duty to protect them, Aramas…never." He looked up at the moon, using the translucent crescent as an excuse to steer the subject of conversation away. "It is time for the first watch. I will take it. You sleep, I will wake you on the third watch."

Not willing to argue, Aramas lay down on his pallet and entered into the path of Elven dreams, though they were horribly stained with the blood of a dead lady.

The small band traveled for several days before reaching the border of Lothlorien. Legolas refused to ride alone, and though he always sat before his father, his words came with no less reluctrance than before. Likewise, Thranduil dwelt deep within the pools of his grief and said little also. Aramas thought of much, but never aloud. He could not bring himself to disturb the silence, which hung so heavily in the air.

They had not entered far into the land of fair Lothlorien, and already the youngest of the trio was shifting in his seat.

"Legolas?" his father asked, noticing the sudden moment of anxiety his son was having. The child looked up, his bright sapphire eyes looking straight into identical melancholy orbs.

"May we stop? I want to talk the trees." Thranduil raised his eyebrow, asking a silent question, though he nodded all the same and stopped the horse with a gentle touch. Legolas slid onto the ground and ran over to the nearest tree, placing his hand upon the golden bark.

"_Greetings, young one." _

Legolas smiled. "Hello…"

The tree began to sway slowly as it spoke in return. _"It was not your fault your mother died, but we are here if you need comfort. Your father is very sad, and he needs it, just as you do. Always obey him. It will make him happy_," the mallorn whispered softly into Legolas' mind.

"Thank you…for everything. You are very different from the trees in my home."

The tree seemed pleased. _"Why are we different?"_

"You have a musical voice, like my nana."

The tree ruffled golden leaves high above the ground, conveying joy where words did not. "_We have many different voices."_

"You sound pretty when you sing together."

"_I am glad we make you happy. You must continue on your journey; the people who live underneath us are expecting you." _

As Legolas smiled and removed his hand from the tree, his steps back towards his father seemed lighter than the older Elf had seen them since that tragic night in Greenwood. Thranduil lifted the child onto their horse, placing him gently before himself, and wrapped both arms around the small body, lending warmth, protection and love, all things he knew his precious son needed now more than ever.

"Ada..." Legolas looked up, whispering to his father as the tree's words came back to him. "Are you hurting? Because Nana's gone?"

Thranduil released a sigh colored in weariness. "Yes, I am mourning."

Silence fell as the child contemplated the answer, then: "Ada?"

The urge to roll his eyes was overwhelming, but Thranduil's diplomatic training held him back from an action unbecoming to royalty. "Yes, Legolas."

"Somebody's watching us."

Thranduil stiffened. He sensed no evil around him, nor had the trees warned of any approaching. But then, his son was so much closer to them than he could ever be; and the last time Legolas had been ignored, tragedy had struck. "Who is watching us?"

"They are the guardians of Lothlorien, sent to protect us."

The father looked down, though he was unable to catch the child's gaze. Legolas was swiftly becoming tired, and it showed clearly in the way his eyes flickered on the brink between consciousness and slumber. Even before the question was voiced, Thranduil signaled to Aramas that they would stop for the night. He had no objections to letting his son sleep as they rode, but the boy would wake with sore limbs and aching muscles if they continued. As the three dismounted, the gentle rustlings of a mallorn tree drew their gazes, and a lone Elf stepped into their clearing.

Blonde hair with hints of silver highlights hung behind his shoulders, though single braids at his temples denoted him as a warrior of rank. The sword strapped to his hip and the streamlined arrows, which filled his quiver, enforced the fact, and as his moss color eyes made contact with Thranduil's dark blue pools, the latter made a slight bow with one hand placed over his heart.

"Greetings, Haldir," he said, just loud enough for the other's ears to pick up. He received the greeting and traditional Elvish greeting in return, and sensed Aramas do the same behind him.

"With King Amdír away from the realm, Lady Galadriel has been expecting you for the counsel." Haldir looked at the small group in amusement. "Strange that you should travel in such a small pack, Thranduil. I understood your protection was in the best interest of your father."

Thranduil remained silent; though Haldir and himself were well acquainted he was not in the mood for joining in with the small talk made by the other Elf. Haldir's lips tightened slightly in annoyance at the lack of reciprocation, but years as a disciplined warrior kept his irritation in check. He looked from Thranduil to the Elfling standing near his leg. His frown turned into a delighted but controlled smile.

"And what is your name, young one?" Haldir asked, his voice no longer that of a stern commander. Legolas hid behind his father's leg, slowly peeking out, his azure eyes flickering as nerves swept over him.

"Legolas," he whispered shyly.

"How old are you, Legolas?"

The child's face turned a bashful red, and though he edged behind Thranduil as much as he could, he made a gesture with his fingers, remembering the good manners his mother had always taught him. Haldir graced him with another smile. It had been so long since he had seen one of such an age. Not many Elflings were born in the time where evil was rampaging across Arda.

"Shy one, is he not? Who is his father? "

Thranduil responded without a heartbeat's pause, "I am."

Haldir blinked in shock, his eyes slowly widening. "I was not aware you were married," he said, his tone once more cold and controlled.

"No one did…no one was supposed to." Thranduil's eyes fell towards the ground, and a curt nod came in his direction. He could not help the breath of relief, which left his lips. Haldir understood the message being communicated to him and would not press the subject.

The Lórien Elf whistled suddenly, a sound more like a birdcall than anything else, and close to thirty elves dropped out of the surrounding trees as one. "With your permission, Prince Thranduil," he said formally, "we will escort you to the main citadel, where the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel await you."

Thranduil nodded acquiescence, but a gentle tug at his hand drew his eyes downwards. Though grief still consumed his gaze, he put on a smile for his bright-eyed son. "Yes, ion-nín," he murmured. "What is it?"

"Ada…must we continue tonight? I am so tired," Legolas whispered, rubbing small fists against his wearied eyes.

At the question, Thranduil glanced at Haldir, knowing that the other Elf's sharp ears would have picked up the words. Haldir again nodded, before turning to inform his higher-ranking officers of the path they would take. Left alone once more, Thranduil kneeled down to be at eye level with his child. "Yes, Legolas. I fear we must."

Legolas just nodded, accepting the situation and forbidding himself to whine or make a fuss over it. His mother would never have approved of such manners, and he would always be on his best behavior, just as she had taught him. He leaned over to embrace his father, wrapping his arms tightly around the older Elf's neck. "I love you, Ada."

The gentle admission conceived a smile, though the tears of Thranduil's broken spirit nearly fell. "I love you too, penneth."

As Legolas leaned away, he caught the shimmer in his father's eyes, and a frown creased his smooth forehead. "Do not cry, Ada. The Valar are watching over us."

Thranduil nodded, dashing the tears away into history, and rose once more. With his hand still in Legolas', they went to their fresh mount provided by Haldir, and prepared for the final stretch of their journey. As they left the clearing, he wondered how it was possible that the healing process was working so well on his child after such a short time and so great a tragedy.

Perhaps Legolas had healed partially, yes, but for the most part he had done nothing more than cover the wound with several layers of bandages. But he had forgotten one vital ingredient – ointment to aid the process. For the rest of Legolas' life in Arda the gash would never heal, but both he and his father would learn to cope with the pain. Through the unprecedented love they had for one another, they would help each other through the times, which ripped off the bandages covering the cut.

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I hope you guys like this chapter, and will review it NICELY!! Be nice to the very ill author...who at the moment is eating chicken soup and attempting to write a chapter. (like that's going to happen) Anyways, i hope you guys find it in your hearts and 60 seconds of your time to REVIEW!! **PRESS THE LITTLE BUTTON AND SAY SOMETHING PLEASE!!**


	6. The Council

Hi everyone! I know it's been awhile since i've updated, but things came up. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. My beta "Mistopurr" has been such a great help. She gave me the idea for the 'council' scene. She really made this chapter what it is, and without her, my writing would be terrible!

I am also getting sick again. To much stress at school...**WHO HATES TAKS TESTS RAISE YOUR HAND** (_the whole universe of teenagers raises hands_) Did you know that in some states they're trying to put the exit level TAKS test in colleges?? Yeah...i hate TAKS, so be nice and review...maybe it will make my week.

I would like to thank ALLLLLL off my reviewers...though they were few and far between..Lena, Le Pain Perdu, Gord and V, hawgirl04, Ampria, AnneathGreanleaf, TheStoryGypsy, lillypop, Jedi Padfoot, pixiespryte, kerigan, Janet, Rebellwithoutacause, and my one anymous reviewer.

Thank you guys so much, you all really made my day, and my week when your reviewes were kind and long. I hope i can keep you all with me through out the next chapters. THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING!! (and for those didn't review...i'll find out where you live.)

Also I put a song in here. It is sung by "Josh Groban" in the movie "Troy" I'm sure you all have heard of it before. I dont want to get this story deleted because i didn't give glory where glory was due.

ONE MORE THING. GO SEE THE NEW MOVIE 'AMAZING GRACE' CHECK OUT THE TRAILER!! The movie's AWESUME!!!!!!! It's about this guy who stops slavery in England. The story was directed and written by the same guys who wrote "Ray" with Jammie Fox. SO CHECK OUT THE "AMAZING GRACE" TRAILER!

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Chapter 6

As the leader of the large patrol of Galadhrim warriors led the newcomers silently and efficiently through the leafy trails into the heart of Lothlorien, the golden trees of the forest waved their branches aside to allow unhindered passage for their new young friend and his companions. The group rode and rode for time uncountable, and Haldir's troubled mind rejected the need to stop, overwhelmed as it was with confused thoughts of the strange turn his day had taken and the tragic and fatal events which had led to it.

Just behind him on the trail, Legolas snuggled into his father, closing his eyes tightly in an attempt to forego the path of dreams onto which his weary mind threatened to step, but the battle he fought was not to be won. Only the gracefulness inborn into all Elves and the strong arms wrapped around his waist kept him from slipping from the horse as he slept. The owner of those arms would not sleep. His own mind dwelt deep in memories of the past. Every second that passed brought a new image of his lost wife; every moment gave him a new recollection.

Pain welled up inside of him, a pain that made him swallow in agony. All he wanted was to join her, to hold her once more, but the small bundle of joy asleep in his arms held him back from taking a final journey. He could not leave Legolas, not alone in the vastness of Arda. If his young child was all there was to live for, then so be it. He would live.

The Elven company rode along in silence; conversation had ceased between them long since, returning to life only when one soldier quietly took direction from one of his peers. Thranduil glanced down as Legolas shifted in sleep, searching for a new position.

Sensing the movement, their horse shook his mane unhappily, as though aware that something was wrong. The slumbering child shifted again. In a second, the horse came to a halt in the middle of the path and began to slowly lower himself to the ground. Foreseeing the strange behavior, Thranduil dismounted with his son, and watched the display with an arched eyebrow.

"By the Valar, what…?"

"Have we stopped yet, Ada?" a sleepy voice questioned.

Some paces on, Haldir turned his own mount around and returned to the Elves from Greenwood. A small smile touched his lips, but his spoke formally. "Sir, we have much of the journey left before us."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed, annoyance and weariness entering his own voice as he snapped a reply. "Tell it to the horse, Haldir."

Upon seeing the crafty animal halt the company for its masters, Aramas had dismounted and set about preparing a sleeping ground for his tired friends before the Galadhrim could hurry them on again. He received a grateful smile from Thranduil, who promptly fell with feline grace upon the bedding, pulling his child down with him. Legolas let his gaze travel over the Elves around them, and was asleep against his father's chest almost before the muttered apology left his lips. The immortals of Lórien chuckled quietly, though some remained silent as they contemplated what had befallen the two to sap them of such strength.

The journey was not continued until the next day, much to the chagrin of Haldir. It was not until the twilight hues of evening began to fall that they reached the very heart of Lothlorien, where Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel had their home. Whispers from the trees were numerous as they breathed welcome to Legolas, and though his eyes were still heavy, he stayed wide-awake, excitement filling him at the prospect of hearing their songs once more.

"_Welcome, young one. We are glad you can hear our voices,"_ some sang.

"_We have many things to tell you._" Some began to whisper of the people he was soon to meet. _"Lady Galadriel is very kind; she has seen the pain in your heart and your father's too. Do not fear; she will help you to overcome it, just as we will. We will tell you of the many things to come, do not be afraid to voice them to your father. Many things are happening in Arda, young one… Listen when your Ada speaks, and obey." _

"_The other tree told me that too,"_ Legolas replied silently.

"_That was the guard of the woods, the wisest of us all. We are glad you met her."_

Before the child could ask more questions, Haldir dismounted before the largest tree Legolas had seen in his immortal life, and his wide blue eyes followed a thick trunk hundreds of feet into the air before they reached the apex of the golden-topped beauty. He expected the tree's voice to be a giant rumble, but only a whisper touched his ears, so soft that even he had to strain to hear the song vibrating gently in his mind. It was beautiful, unlike anything he had heard even amongst the mallorn trees.

It started off low, before rising higher and higher with each passing note, but still it remained soft, melancholy. To Legolas it made him return to the death of his mother. The song was a melody of mourning. The trees began to join together in a cacophony, one that the listening child would one day take and re-write to play when he was much older.

"_Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me, in your memory _

Remember, when your dreams have ended  
Time can be transcended  
Just remember me

I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,  
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun

I'm with you  
Whenever you tell, my story

Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me, in your memory  
Remember me

I am the one voice in the cold wind, that whispers  
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky

As long as I still can reach out, and touch you  
Then I will never die

Remember, I'll never leave you  
If you will only  
Remember me

Remember me...

Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me  
In your memory

Remember, when your dreams have ended  
Time can be transcended  
I live forever  
Remember me

Remember me  
Remember... me..."

Though his heart felt like breaking once more into a million pieces, Legolas did not cry. He kept the words locked securely in his heart, playing them over and over again, drawing strength from their meaning and letting himself do as the song had demanded and remember his mother before Oropher had come and. Just as red liquid began to fill his past vision, rising voices cut into his reverie. His father and Haldir were arguing some way away, and he felt a sudden jolt of anger at them for pulling his attention. Their quarrel was meaningless. He cared not whether they met with the Lord and Lady now or waited another day. It was trivial to him.

With a soft sigh, Legolas forced himself to block out the song of the trees, letting it become nothing more than a distantly felt murmur in the back of his mind.

Soon after arriving in the heart of Lothlorien, it was alone that the unwilling heir to the throne of Greenwood the Great ascended the curving steps around a great and golden mallorn tree. Haldir had suggested that Legolas be put under the supervision of Lady Celebrían's former minder whilst his father met with Celeborn and Galadriel; Thranduil had acquiesced purely because the child's need for rest was dire. Since the events in his home and the sudden loss of his wife, he found that being apart from their son tore at his heart as it never had done before.

Though he had walked with no guide since leaving Legolas, Thranduil knew the way to the meeting chambers well, despite visiting the Golden Wood only during treaties and when politics demanded it. His memory served him well. He never forgot a face or path, and certainly not these stairs. Indeed, as he climbed and climbed upwards, images from the past came back to him, recollections that he held dear, though they were so often overshadowed by darkness. There was little in his past that he wished to remember.

**Flash Back**

The strange steps passed slowly underneath his feet as he climbed them to the top of the mallorn tree, and Thranduil kept his eyes fixed unwaveringly on his path. At home as he was amongst the trees, they had no such stairs back in Greenwood, and this experience was a new one. At his side was Oropher, garbed from pointed ears to toes in nothing less than the King's finest clothes, as he was too. He could not help but pick at the fine silk of his tunic, and grimace at its touch. He hated all of this unnecessary ceremony.

"Thranduil…"

The Prince started at his name, and turned wide eyes upon the older immortal. A strong hand came down to rest on his shoulder. He would never admit it, but that hand frightened him. "Yes, Adar?"

"They are not to be trusted. Don't ever trust these…Elves," Oropher said quietly. It was not advice he gave, but a command. "They can only deceive you, bring pain and suffering to our people."

"Yes, Adar," Thranduil repeated obediently.

He would have liked to say 'ada', but ever since early childhood, protocol and his father's lack of warmth dictated otherwise. He continued to trail the King up the stairs, and released a silent sigh. They rarely spoke much. He knew that Oropher harbored only bitterness towards him. All he wanted was to know he was loved, but it was said he had killed his mother by being born which had brought about the darkness within the Greenwood ruler. It wasn't true; it couldn't be. He would never wish to bring harm upon one who would love him, unlike his surviving parent.

"Straighten your shoulders, Thranduil," Oropher said icily, ordering him as though he was nothing more than a servant. The Prince immediately obeyed, and lifted his head too in an attempt to halt any further commands before they came. He would do everything possible to make his father love him. Everything.

**End Flash Back**

Thranduil blinked in surprise as he reached the doors of the council chamber, and let the memory return to where it should have stayed, secure in the deep recesses of his mind. He remembered that evening well. He had met Lady Galadriel for the first time, along with her husband and King Amdír. He could not help but smile slightly as he recalled how kind the Lady of Lórien had been to him that night. For the first time in his life, he had felt as though he had a mother. But inevitably, Oropher had disapproved and taken…steps to ensure it did not happen again.

Taking a deep breath, Thranduil unconsciously straightened his shoulders and raised his chin. He did not realize he had done so until after he entered the chambers, and he silently cursed himself for letting the memory influence him as he walked towards Galadriel and Celeborn. They sat regally upon the dual throne occupied at other times by the King of Lothlorien. The Greenwood Prince had no qualms about their positions; he only prayed to the Valar that they would be as kind as the last time he had come. The thrones were set upon a platform. Three steps climbed up to it.

'_Just like them. More stairs.'_

The thrones were deceptively simple chairs, but the backs were inlaid with intricate patterns of silver mithril. Behind those seats of power was a great window looking out over the forest of Lórien and reflecting the midnight blue of the night sky and making the thrones and their occupants seem to glow. Thranduil bowed low before them, covering his heart with one hand. As he straightened, he did not raise his eyes, keeping them lowered to the foot of the platform out of respect for the noble Elves before him.

"Why have you come?" Celeborn asked suddenly. His voice had changed since Thranduil had last heard him, and his heart sank. It was colder, lordlier. Almost treating him as something far beneath his station, as another Elf had so often done to him. If the wellbeing of his son did not depend on this meeting, he would have left, he knew. "Well? Why have you come?"

"Hír-nín, Híril-nín, I have come for protection, for me… and my son."

At the admission that he needed their help, Thranduil's strong pride began to ache. In front of him, Celeborn shifted upon the thrown, unable to hide his surprise, but Galadriel was still, staring quietly. The trio of Elves remained silent, each in their own thoughts and memories, and it was Celeborn again who broke that tangible quiescence. "You must tell us the tale." His voice was emotionless, and Thranduil suddenly found himself wanting to strike him. He would not let a stranger, lord or not, order him to give an explanation.

"I will not," he said stubbornly, and broke protocol as he caught their gazes. His eyes burned with cold fire. If they wanted to treat him like dirt, he held no more respect for them.

"If you wish to stay, you will tell us the story," Celeborn flared.

"And if you respect and trust me as all the treaties that you signed with my people say, then you will not ask such personal questions." Thranduil's voice rose, his anger with it.

"Peace," Galadriel spoke softly, her sapphire pools understanding. "I have seen the events of your past, but alas, I was unable to stop them." She lowered her eyes in contemplation. "Your son… What is his name?"

"Legolas."

"Aptly named for a Wood-elf," Galadriel smiled. "You need him as much as he needs you, is that not so? Yes… Protection is granted, but we in turn require aid from you."

Thranduil nodded – he knew he would not be allowed to have something without giving something away – and watched as Celeborn rose gracefully from his throne, his silver robes following his every movement. "Ask what you will of me," he said quietly.

"You must help us in this war against Sauron." The older Elf's voice was less formal than before, and he gave a soft smile as his guest tried to hide a shudder at the accursed name. "Whether you are aware of this or not, several hundreds of warriors and their families have come here…from Greenwood. They have fled your father; they disagree with his methods of ruling, as well as his techniques of punishment. They need a leader."

"I will start no colony," Thranduil broke in, his already inflamed temper rising. "I have a young son."

"That was not asked of you," Celeborn replied quietly. "Should the time come, we would have you lead them into battle."

The Prince looked away, and shook his head just once. "No. Hir-nín, I will not leave my child, no matter what comes to pass."

"You either fight to protect him, or he and the rest of Arda is lost…"

As the angry words washed over him, Thranduil bit the inside of his cheek in quiet annoyance. They expected him to make a decision then and there, but he could not. He _would_ not! Valar, he could barely think straight enough to plan the rest of the night, let alone choose to change the destiny of Middle-earth itself. He wanted to snap, but diplomatic training held him in check.

"You will decide when the time comes," Galadriel intoned solemnly. "Until then, take care of your son. Go to him now. You need rest as well as he."

Thranduil glanced at Celeborn failing to hide the look of irritation upon his face, and concealed a smile of his own with a bow. When he left the chambers, Aramas was waiting for him outside the doors. "Legolas?"

"Asleep. It was not that bad inside, was it?" the soldier asked plaintively.

"No, Aramas. I don't suppose it was. I think that I can trust them." Thranduil laughed quietly, and looked back at the doors. "For now."

Hidden inside the chambers, Celeborn's glare had not lessened, though his wife matched it easily. "He was tired," she chided frostily. "You should not have been so bold as to expect him to make a decision at that very moment."

"That is not why I am angry, and you know it. Why did you not speak to me when you saw what happened in Greenwood? You left me looking a complete fool," Celeborn sighed. "Not to mention how insulted our new guest must have felt."

"His story is a sad one, and I fear his son is not young enough to forget it." With a sad exhalation of breath, Galadriel began the tale, a word for word account of all that had passed beneath the eaves of Greenwood the Great not so long ago.

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DID YOU LIKE IT??? Take 60 seconds and send a review...longer then two sentences. It will make my week, if not, i may hunt you down...and FORCE YOU TO SPEND 60 SECONDS REVIEWING! Did you know that an average person spend 2 weeks of their life waiting on at a stoplight...well take 60 seconds, be kind, and PLEASE REVIEW. 


	7. Bedtime Rememberance

Hi,

I am really sorry, but my computer went hairwire on me (after catching a terrible virus) and deleted the chapter when i clicked on it. My inproficency of handling computers seems to always happen when i'm on fanfic. Anyways, apparently this chapter was terrible because of the lack of rerviews. The hard work and effort done by me and my beta was reworded by a whopping total of 3 reviews.

I realize that even some people are saying it's getting boring. BUT READERS IF YOU WILL JUST STAY WITH ME FOR _TWO MORE CHAPTERS_ stuff will happen, I PROMISE (grins) Please review, my life is less then golden (not that anyone else has a golden life) But unfortuantly bikini season is coming up again, and I was fortuantly born with a curved body, so I am having to work out alot, not that it's helping to fit into today's culture where the only girls who are pretty are girls who are flat and look like boys. Anywho...PLEASE REVIEW FOR THE DESPERATE AUTHOR.

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Preparing for his first real night of sleep in three long days, Legolas slowly pulled a sleeping tunic over his head, using the soft material to hide a yawn. The ellyth in charge of him had brought the item of nightwear in place of his own, which had become creased and dirty during the journey he had undertaken, but he inaudibly reflected that he would rather wear what he was accustomed to at any time, never mind the days since it had been washed. It was what he knew, and that offered him comfort where little else could.

Thranduil was nowhere to be seen, apparently still closeted in the main council chamber with Galadriel and Celeborn, discussing the matters of Greenwood. Legolas had been told to remain with the young ellyth; she was kind and helpful, but he could not help resenting her. She only made him want his father even more. So it was that he politely refused sleep, quietly stating that he would stay awake until Thranduil came. The maiden had reluctantly agreed, leaving him in the dark with one lone candle shining on top of a dresser.

Sitting up in the bed he had been given, the child leaned against his pillows, staring at that light. His eyelids were heavy with sleep, but he remained determinedly awake, letting his mind focus on the song still silently vibrating in his mind. He opened up to the beautiful melody, allowing his spirit to blend with it and become one with it… A door slammed somewhere close at hand, and Legolas started at the noise. His eyes became focused, and he watched in silence as his father finally entered the chamber.

"Penneth, why do you not rest?" Thranduil's voice was soft, yet displeasure laced it.

"I wanted to speak with you," Legolas answered quietly, casting his eyes downwards. He knew he should have let himself drift into the dreamless sleep which awaited him.

Leaving the door slightly ajar to allow more light from outside flow in, Thranduil sat on the bed, opening his arms for his son. Legolas snuggled against his chest, a faint smile forming upon his childish features. The father slowly stroked his child's soft hair. His long strands were closer in color to his own sire's, shining with a silvery tint rather than a golden. Legolas had inherited the fine blonde hair of his mother.

"Tell me, Greenleaf… What was so very important that stopped you from entering into the sleep you have been pleading for?"

Legolas sighed, the air which escaped his lips brushing against his father's tunic. "How did you meet Nana?"

Thranduil could not help the sudden tension which stiffened his body; that was the last question he had expected. "I… Well, we… Why do you want to know?" He looked down at his son, catching the blue eyes with his own.

Almost timidly, Legolas lowered his gaze a moment before raising it once more. "I want to remember her the way you do."

At the words, Thranduil shifted underneath the child, his mind flying back to the time he first met Elranna, and the memory he had sought to hide away sprung up again. Valar, how great the pain. The whole thing was his fault. Her death and the blood which had flowed so hard and fast lay solely in his hands. He could have stopped it. He could have stopped _all _of it, but he had not been swift enough.

"It is time for you to go to bed, Legolas," he said, his voice emotionless. He pulled himself away from his son's arms, turning his face away to hide the grief buried deep within him.

"It is not your fault."

Something in the child's heart must have spoke of his father's feelings of self-blame and loathing, and wide azure eyes watched silently as Thranduil inhaled sharply and slowly let the breath out. Why and how his little son seemed to know him so much better than he knew himself, he could not fathom. He turned once more and sat at the edge of the bed, gazing into the young face before him, struggling to control his own emotions and stop them from grabbing hold of him.

"It's not your fault. It was meant to be this way, because the Valar let it happen. Everything they do has a reason, Ada, and perhaps one day we will both finally be able to understand," Legolas murmured.

"Ai penneth, you have the wisdom of a god," Thranduil wondered, his own voice equally soft.

Legolas just shook his golden head and looked down. "Wisdom comes out of the mouth of babes."

"Like that little phrase," Thranduil smiled.

"Grandmamma taught it to me."

The older Elf laughed softly under his breath, accompanying it with a nod of comprehension. "I see. We must visit her when we return."

"When will that be, Ada?" Legolas pressed.

"I don't know, Greenleaf. I don't know." It was the truth; Thranduil's mind held many things; too many to even consider the journey home.

"Tell me about Nana." The child reached upwards, clearly wanting to be held, but all he received was an irritated sigh.

"Penneth, can we not do this another night?" Legolas frowned, disappointment evident upon his face. He opened his eyes wide, and attacked his father with the best begging impression he knew of. "Ai Elbereth, ion-nín. You are so difficult!"

Legolas just looked up with a wide grin, knowing full well that he had fought the demons of grief and defeated them on this occasion. With another sigh, softer this time, Thranduil lay back against the board of the bed, letting his son's head rest again upon his chest. His hands stroked silky hair, and he took his time, thinking back on the day he first met his love.

"I was on a patrol in the northern woods, very close to where your grandmamma and grandpa live. I was the leader of the patrol, but I looked like all the other Elves, so in the possible event we were captured, our enemies would not know me as the Crown Prince of Greenwood the Great. After a few days of scouting we set up a base. There were some fifty of us in total, and another fifty was to join us at a later time. As we were constructing the camp tents, spiders appeared. They had surrounded us without our knowledge."

Legolas' body stiffened slightly, his breath hitched just enough to announce his deep involvement in the story. "Then what happened?"

"Everyone was…stunned. And frightened."

"You weren't," Legolas stated boldly.

Thranduil laughed quietly. "Even as a warrior, it was…nerve wracking."

At the admission, the child gave his father a strange look. "But you…you are never afraid of anything."

"No, ion-nín." Thranduil smiled, and gently kissed his son's forehead. "There is nothing wrong with feeling the emotion of fear, but letting yourself act upon it is something I never do. There is a difference." Legolas nodded understanding, and snuggled in for the rest of the story. "We attacked the only way we could. We shot arrows at long range, and used swords when the proximity of the spiders allowed it. Finally after hours of fighting we were able to defeat them, but not without

loss of numbers due to various injuries. Thankfully, none died.

"After helping to carry the weakened soldiers, one of the lieutenants realized that I too had been wounded by a spider. I myself had not noticed. I needed to be taken straight to a healer, for warriors carry little antidotes against spider venom, since spiders are so rare. Then all I recall is falling unconscious, but when I awoke…"

**Flashback (888 yrs earlier)**

Thranduil felt something soft beneath him. He could have forced his eyes open, but instinct and past experiences of captivity kept them closed. It was in his own interests to feign unconsciousness as his senses searched the surroundings. Sunlight was filtering in through a window, gently warming him through the sheets and blankets which covered his body. He could feel that the room was empty, and he slowly opened one eye. A white ceiling greeted him, and he flicked the other eye open.

The dazzling light from outside attacked his vision, and he could not help but groan at the prickles of pain. Pride got the better of him, though, and he immediately bit his lip and glanced swiftly around the room, ignoring the dizziness which plagued him. All was silent and still within, but without, he heard footsteps climbing up the stairs to where he lay, a deep sense of urgency in them. The trees whispered to him that he was in no danger, and he lay back once more, feigning sleep and awaiting the newcomer. The footsteps stopped, almost as though they had collided with something, and he listened intently to the voices that suddenly sprang up.

"You cannot go in there." The firm but musical tone was that of a young lady.

'_A blonde lady,' _he guessed.

"M'lady, try to understand this. I heard him and I want to see him!"

Thranduil almost laughed. That was his second in command, and Aramas sounded more like an old nurse than a fierce warrior, his voice hurried and impatient, tinged with worry. The voice which met his was contrastingly calm.

"You cannot go in there until my father has completed his treatment against the poison. If you go in now, you will over-excite him."

Both Thranduil and Aramas snorted in unison at the words.

"My commander-

The woman's sly voice cut in. "So, he is your commander."

Thranduil muttered a quick curse in Quenyan. Aramas always strove to protect his identity, yet it was rarely to any avail. The secret was always guessed by the end of the day; Aramas never had been good at keeping them to himself, one of the reasons why his post was only second in command. Outside the door, the two began to quarrel, the lady's arguments surprisingly vicious. Thranduil rolled his eyes. He would never be permitted to speak with his fellow warrior if the woman had her way.

He was royalty; how difficult could it be to silence them? He opened his mouth, though he closed it again almost immediately. First he wanted to test his strength. He never wanted to be weak. Mortals were weak, not the Crowned Prince of Greenwood the Great. He slowly propped himself up, duly noting his level of health. Surprisingly, he found it to be high. The woman was insane to think the effects of the poison had yet to be destroyed. In silence, he eased towards the edge of the bed, still listening to the heated debate outside the door. The more Aramas argued with the lady, the more painful Thranduil's headache became. The stronger the headache, the greater was his desire for sleep.

He stood slowly and grabbed onto a bedpost to pull himself up, assuming he would need the support. Another surprise came; his strength was perfectly renewed. "Now if I can shut them up, things will be wonderful," he muttered beneath his breath.

Grabbing a robe from the chair near his bed, he let his gaze travel around his accommodation once more, taking in the surroundings with more clarity than before. It was a simply furnished room, comprising of merely the bed, a nightstand with a porcelain bowl upon it, a mahogany wardrobe and the wooden chair which had… Raised voices flew in from outside, and Thranduil felt pulses of anger as the urge to strangle Aramas and put the woman in a cell in the middle of nowhere overcame him. He strode towards the door and threw it open. Unsurprisingly, he was met with silence.

"Have you any idea how very difficult it is to sleep when there are two people bickering outside your room?" His voice was cold, his eyes hard and completely focused on Aramas.

"S-sorry…sir."

Thranduil simply glared at him. "Report, Captain."

Aramas cleared his throat and instinctively straightened his shoulders. "None dead, sir. Only four injured, five including yourself."

"Thank you. I do believe I can count. Now, is there any possibility that you and your new friend can continue your conversation somewhere away from my door?"

"Yes, sir," Aramas replied, fighting hard not to stutter under the chilling gaze of his commander.

"So glad to hear it, Captain."

"How is your head?"

For the first time, Thranduil turned his eyes upon the lady Aramas had been arguing with. He had been right; her hair was blonde, the color of spun gold. She was also the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and he had thought that many could fit his standards. For a second he was tongue tied. How was it possible that his second in command was not seeing what his eyes did? He was looking upon either a Goddess or a nymph; that or there was some poison left in his body which had induced a hallucination. '_Poison does not do that to Elves_,' he silently told himself. '_I hope.'_

Aramas coughed suddenly, loud in the silence, jolting Thranduil out of the deep thoughts his mind was struggling to swim through. He opened his mouth to speak, found it was already open, and slowly cleared his throat. Trying to wear his most diplomatic expression, he replied: "My head is…manageable. I just need some…rest." Truly, it was hopeless.

"Sleep is the last thing you need. The poison will take over again if you cannot remain awake," the lady informed him, her tone brooking no argument.

"That will not be hard," Thranduil murmured.

He maintained unbreakable eye contact with the creature of beauty who stood before him, blissfully unaware of the discomfort suffered by his waiting second in command. To one side, Aramas shifted slightly, purposefully fidgeting in futile attempts to distract the apparently frozen Elves. He was a fool, though, to try and capture the attention of a young prince meeting his bonded for the first time.

The lady was as taken with Thranduil as he was with her. When he had first stepped out of the room, surprise had swept through her at the powering presence which radiated from him in a simple word or glance, the way he held his head proudly high in spite of the weariness and pain within eyes of a deep blue, darkened somewhat by his emotions. Her mouth, she thought later, must have dropped to the floor and beyond as she had studied him speaking with his second in command, as she had taken in the incredibly handsome face, the most well built body she had ever looked upon. With just a simple robe thrown casually over leggings, it was a sight which made her heart pound.

The two continued to stare at each other until the resounding thump in Thranduil's head became steadily louder. There must have been a percussive instrument of sorts in there…his captain was still fidgeting….he had just met his bonded. Realization slammed into him, and the headache increased ten fold. The light streaming in from the window did not help any, and he shut his eyes tightly. A hand upon his arm led him back to his room, and a giddy sense of delight washed over him at the touch.

"Shut the window," Elranna said pointedly to Aramas. "I will find my father. Keep him awake, Captain."

As the first command was obeyed and the room became darker, Thranduil sat cautiously upon the bed, his headache only slightly less spiked. "Aramas," he called.

"Yes, sir?"

"What is her name?"

"The young lady's, sir?"

Thranduil managed to get one eye open at the question, and shook his head slightly. "No, I meant the cow outside my window. Yes, you fool. The lady."

"She is Elranna, sir. The daughter of Darius."

"Darius…" Thranduil was silent in contemplation before realization hit. "Darius the renowned healer? Darius the former physician of my father?" A nod from Aramas brought forth a sigh from him. "So she is the daughter of a commoner."

**Flashback Interrupted **

"But Ada, why did it matter if Nana was a commoner or not?"

Thranduil looked down at his son, and shook his head almost helplessly. "It is a very complicated thing for me to explain."

"Try," Legolas replied impertinently.

"Watch your tone, ion-nín. It is disrespectful." At his son's quick nod and the faint flush upon his cheeks, Thranduil moderated his own voice. "Will you let me continue the story, Greenleaf?"

"Yes, Ada."

**Flashback Continued **

"Why should that matter, sir? Anyone can tell within thirty feet that you and she will be bonded," Aramas answered, confusion lacing his voice. "The way you look at each other…"

"Yes." Thranduil's voice had softened, and he lowered his head to rest it in his hands. "My father… When he finds out…he will…"

"Who will tell him, sir?"

The Prince raised his eyes, looking deliberately at Aramas. "You will not?"

"Am I a fool?"

"Sometimes I wonder."

Aramas just chuckled lightly. "Believe it or not, sir, I do indeed have brains and some small measure of common sense. My mouth simply turns to water when you glare." He received a stuck out tongue for his words, and his lips turned upwards in a grin. "Oh, that was very mature and so becoming of an Elf in your position."

Drawing on the strength given back to him by his healers, Thranduil pushed Aramas off the bed, smiling slightly as his companion landed upon the floor with the grace born into all immortals. The second in command picked himself up, ready to avenge himself, when footsteps outside interrupted their play. Darius came swiftly into the room, followed by a very intent looking Elranna, but he halted almost immediately.

"Your Royal Highness!"

Thranduil could not help but groan at that. "I hate being a prince," he muttered, barely loud enough for the others to hear. Aramas caught the words and laughed loudly, his mirth making that damned headache spring up again. To make matters worse, now Elranna knew his true identity.

"Elranna, boil me some Athelas. I will find my bag."

As the requests were carried out and the physician set to work, Thranduil grumbled something offensive in quiet Dwarvish about Darius' bag. The last thing he saw before the healers descended upon him was the tips of Aramas' ears turning bright red.

**End Flashback**

Legolas smiled. "And then you married Nana."

"It was not as easy as that, penneth," Thranduil replied, shaking his head. He felt his son shift in confusion, but the child remained silent. "I had many doubts, so rather than rush into marriage, we spent many evenings together, walking, talking…" As he recalled the happy memories, his eyes drifted out of focus. "We had our first kiss, but even after that I remained unsure. I knew that my… Oropher would be furious. The day Darius finally said I was cured happened to fall on Marynihska's begetting day. There was a big celebration, and Elranna danced for the crowd. Valar, I will never forget it. She had such grace. The melody was so sad, so mournful that it made her appear to be crying.

"As I watched her, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life dancing with her in the moonlight, forever. After I returned to the palace, we sent each other letters every day, using birds to protect our secret from Oropher. And then, a few hundred years later, we had a small wedding. Just us and her parents."

Thranduil looked down at Legolas to find him asleep, eyes closed in a sleep not yet free from dreams and memories. The older Elf shook his head, a fair smile gracing his features, the deep pools of his eyes lighting for a split second as he laid his small son upon the pillow. "Losto mae, ion-nín," he whispered. He kissed the smooth forehead and left the room, sneaking one last loving glance as he shut the door.

* * *

**Translation: Losto mae, ion-nín: Sleep well, my son**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE... CONSIDER TO REVIEW REVIEW_ REVIEW!!!!_**

DC


	8. Argument

HIIII!!!

**I finally updated!!! ISN'T IT AMAZING. I must really thank my beta, mistopurr. She was so amazing and she helped me through this tough, tough chapter!! I hope you guys like the content and find it interesting. The action is going to start soon. **

**I get to go to HAWAII FOR TWO WHOLE WEEKS ON THURSDAY!! It's going to be so much fun! You know what is so scary...so many people i know are graduating and going off to college. I am a freshman in high school and it's just so scary to find people driving...and God forbid...getting a job. Anyways...F****inals are coming up! **

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**I would like to thank all my reviewers: **_Manwe-Varda team, Fae Child19, ShinigamiSaisei, Kitty, Flamesofthemo0n, MDarKspIrIt, elvenlover, Too Lazy To Sign In, Ampria, lillypop, Calenlass Greenleaf!_

I'm getting so many reviews for each chapter. You guys are amazing. But before you read, remember to _**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW...AND MAKE IT LONG AND NICE...**_

**_Also...disclaimer, I am well aware that Elrond and Celebrian did not have kids until the Third Age. But since this is an AU story, please forgive me for twisting it around a little._**

* * *

**_Chapter 8_**

As Thranduil sat in the modest yet highly crafted and comfortably furnished home he and his son had been given, his mind drifted over all that had happened during the past few days, slowly returning to halt on the conversation he had held with Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. They would give him protection in the land of Lothlórien until King Amdír returned. After retelling the story to the monarch, his fate and that of his only child would be decided. He found it highly unlikely that Amdir would send him away. Although he had only met the Elf a few times, he knew him to be kind and graceful. He and Legolas would be safe.

That prospect, promising though it was, did little to raise his spirits. Life without his wife would be painful. No longer would he have that companionship his heart yearned for. He could never speak to her again, never. If not for his precious son to keep him tied to Arda, he would have let his spirit flee long ago. As he contemplated this, a knock on the door startled him away from the dark thoughts.

"Come in." He spoke just loudly enough for the one on the other side of the door to hear. A silver haired Elf entered slowly and took a seat opposite him, studying the emotion filled pools of his eyes in silence. The two were related; just distantly, but a small tendril of brotherhood hung between them.

"How do you fare, my friend?"

All that he had been taught screamed at Thranduil to remain proudly stoic and quiet, but he allowed his head to bow in grief. "How will I live without her, Celeborn? She was my bonded, my one and only love. The pain is too much. But Valar, I cannot leave Legolas behind in Arda, all alone with so much evil surrounding him. He is already small enough." Strength and duty for his child sprung up within him. That duty kindled inside of him would be the only thing to help him survive the many years to come." A small smile pulled the other Elf's lips upwards, but Thranduil did not notice. "Ai, I miss her so much. How will I survive with the knowledge that I can never see her again?"

Celeborn leaned forwards, caught between surprise and horror at his relative's words. "Nay, you are wrong. If she was strong enough to marry you, Mandos will release her after her soul has healed. She will be waiting for you and your son in Valinor."

Thranduil looked up, a small tendril of hope in his eyes. "Is it true?"

"Would I lie?" Celeborn's mouth twitched into a smile, but his gaze was serious. "I think not."

The younger Elf's own smile did not reach his eyes, and he rose to look out of the window. The days since his beloved's death had etched sorrow into his eyes that would remain there forever. He had grown emotionally older, wiser. "Even when I see her again, all the time in eternity would not be enough to relate every detail of Legolas' life or mine. How can I explain to her all I know she will miss?"

"Write to her."

That simple statement spun Thranduil around on his heel, and he elegantly arched one eyebrow. "Write to her? And tell me, who will take the letters? You? Perhaps Legolas?"

"You fail to understand me well. Do not let your temper stand in the way of logic. You sound like an Elfling," Celeborn shook his head. The blue eyes in front of him turned to fire, searing enough to burn holes in the purest metal. "What I meant is that every time something happens and you wish you could speak with her, write a letter, expressing to her how you feel. Explain it as if she was there with you."

Thranduil's eyes calmed in an instant, the flash between tempers reminding Celeborn how truly young he was. "I am sorry, my friend. My emotions have been out of balance ever since…the incident."

"You need rest," the older immortal said quietly. "You may be an Elf, a skilled warrior and strategist, but that does not make you impenetrable. Get some sleep. It takes energy to care for a child, as well as face the ordeals yet before you."

Although he nodded and made to leave, something held Thranduil in place. Taking a deep breath, he turned back and did something his father would have greatly disapproved of. "Thank you, Celeborn. What you and Galadriel are doing… Thank you. For everything."

Celeborn lifted his head in surprise; he had never heard a thanks or apology from anyone in this Elf's family. "I was not aware that Oropher's kin could offer thanks."

"There is a first time for everything."

With newfound respect shining in his eyes, Celeborn nodded in silent farewell and left the talan.

"Ion-nín, what in Elbereth's name happened?" Thranduil breathed.

Legolas slowly sat up, roughly wiping tears from his pale face. "Ada…why do they dislike me so?"

Frowning slightly, the older Elf hoped strongly that the question arose because of insecurities rather than hearing such words from another's lips. "Penneth, of what do you speak? Who hates you? I do not."

"I was referring to all the other Elves in Arda," Legolas snapped, pulling back as his father's brushed stray tears from his cheeks. Thanks to Oropher's blood in him, anger was beginning to seize him with greater force than the hurt he had felt before.

"What did they say to you?" Thranduil asked quietly. He should have known this would happen; not many in Lothlórien enjoyed the presence of he and his son. He did not blame them. He was not fond of them either.

"Well…they did not _say _anything to me. I was listening and-

"What have you always been taught about eavesdropping?"

"It was not my fault," Legolas sighed. A pointed look from his father made him cast his damp eyes downwards, but they did not lose the light of defiance as he was asked again of what he had heard. "That we should never have come here. We should have stayed where we were born and not dirty their country with our presence. Why do they speak of us as if we are evil? Why?"

"They speak of people they do not know, penneth," Thranduil responded slowly. "They only criticize those they have not met."

"Why can't we go home?" The only reply to his question was an exhalation of breath, and he reiterated his desire with desperation in his voice. "I just want to go home. I want to go back to Greenwood."

Something inside of the father snapped, and his eyes flashed angrily. "Legolas, I shall say this once. We will never return to Greenwood while Oropher is alive. Is that understood?"

"But I hate this place," Legolas pressed, sitting up on the bed with a soft bear cuddled against his chest. He had fondly named it Aloysius after being given it by a maiden on their first night in the Golden Wood. "I don't know anybody-

"Do you think you would know anyone in Greenwood?" Thranduil cut in abruptly, his emotions raging like a torrential sea. "For the love of the Valar, grow up and be practical!"

It looked for a moment that Legolas would cry again, but the utter contempt he was beginning to hold for his father swiftly became evident. "Why don't you care anymore?" he shouted.

"Do _not _raise your voice to me," Thranduil hissed, his eyes flaming.

The child was silenced only momentarily, and his own bright eyes spoke volumes of books written on the subject of hate. "If you will not take me home, I shall go by myself."

"You will not."

"I will!"

"You will never return to Greenwood."

Legolas could not help flinching at the coldness of his father's voice, but he steeled himself to press on. "Then, why must we stay here? Can't we go to another place where we are welcome?"

"What do you expect me to do, hmm? I will not raise you in a realm where your mother was killed by my own father! We will never return. Never. Do you understand me, Legolas?" Thranduil snarled.

Looking away, the youthful face of the usually peaceful child contorted with rage. "I hate you," he whispered.

"Do you? Then why don't you just walk all the way back to Greenwood?" So tangled was he in a web of emotions that Thranduil could not accept that his son did not truly know the meaning of such a word.

"Maybe I will."

Thranduil let out a harsh laugh. "And who will you live with? Your grandfather? He would find your presence _appalling_, believe me. Your mother's parents? You don't know where they are."

"I'll find out."

"Damn it, Legolas," Thranduil spat. "I care not anymore."

"Why? Why don't you care?" the child hissed. "Because Nana died? Because it was your fault?"

Furious blue eyes widened, and their owner stopped short before retorting: "My fault? Mine?"

"Yes, yours. She would have been alive today had you not left," Legolas cried.

"Perhaps two are to blame," Thranduil snarled. The words flew from his mouth before he could hold them back. "As you forget so well, who was it who did not warn your mother?"

"You have never been able to understand me! Not you, not Nana, not anyone. Why can't you just see…?" Something cracked in Legolas' voice, and the fire seemed to flee his spirit. "I just want to go home, Ada."

"Then go!" Thranduil snapped, throwing a hand towards the door. Legolas vaulted himself off the bed, carrying his precious stuffed bear with him. The door slammed shut in the very instant that his father kicked a chair across the room.

* * *

Water meandered gently through a wooded clearing of gold, and reflected in the translucent liquid were two creatures blessed with immortality. Raven and silver hair mingled together as the Elves entwined their elegant fingers and shared tender smiles, and a bird hidden in the thick leaved trees trilled a melody to accompany their afternoon luncheon. A basket of berries and baked goods sat between them, but the food went mostly ignored, their unwaveringly locked eyes brightened by adoration. Tangible and unadulterated love flew between the couple as though on the wings of a dove. 

Sharing into the beautiful feelings was a certain small child. Concealed by a large mallorn trunk, Legolas studied the two older Elves with the soft paw of his new friend, Aloysius, planted between his lips as he considered his predicament. To be honest – and he was an honest boy – he had no idea of his whereabouts, something that was proving a hindrance in his plan to return to his own home in Greenwood. He was lost. He was lost, and all that existed were two choices; he could turn around and choose at random a path to follow and simply hope it would lead him to his destination. His second option was to reveal himself to the pair gazing at each other in that strange way Thranduil and Elranna once had, and ask them for help. Familial and childish pride often held him back from requesting aid, but he told himself firmly that sometimes there was just nothing to be done.

Drawing a breath, he stepped out from behind the tree. "Excuse me," he ventured shyly.

The two elves immediately broke their gaze and looked towards the speaker. "Could you please tell me which path I can take to return to Greenwood."

The male elf looked to the female, sharing a glance of curiosity mixed with surprise then looked back to

"Hello. I'm sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering... "

"Have you lost your way, child?" The lady asked softly immediately upon seeing him.

"How did you know?" Legolas asked.

"She inherited her mother's gift." The dark one spoke this time.

"Do not listen to him. You're friend told me."

" My friend? Do you mean... Aloysius? He doesn't talk. I pretend he does," Legolas admitted quietly, a faint flush creeping over his cheeks. "It just makes me feel better, having someone to speak with. Well, something. He is not an Elf." Taking a moment to consider the two older immortals, the child's eyes lowered slightly. "That's not what you were discussing, was it? I am sorry for disturbing you, but will you please tell me what path to take so I may reach Greenwood?"

Elrond looked up swiftly, although he did well at disguising the shock upon his face. "That is at least one hundred miles from here. Are you trying to get there on your own?"

"I want to go home," Legolas nodded.

Wearing a gentle smile at the determination in such a young voice, Celebrían leaned forwards to catch the pair of bright eyes with her own. "What is your name?" she pressed softly.

"My nana told me never to give out such information to strangers," Legolas replied. "But I am no one of great importance."

"Why do you yearn for your home, young one?" Elrond murmured.

"I miss it," the child sighed. "It's the only thing that I... You will not tell me how to get to Greenwood, will you?"

"We shall do our best to discern the predicament you have found yourself in," Elrond assured his young companion. "That will set you upon the right path."

As Legolas contemplated that, Celebrían set about arranging extra picnic food upon the blanket, taking care to choose nourishment that would appeal to a small boy. "Perhaps you and Aloysius are hungry? We can remedy that."

"Aloysius," Legolas said, with an elegantly raised eyebrow, "is a stuffed animal. He never gets hungry."

"Are you?" Elrond returned. There was silence for a moment before the blond head nodded shyly. "Then come, join us. You are more than welcome."

Giving her husband a sideways look as Legolas voiced whispered thanks and sat with Aloysius in his lap, Celebrían rose gracefully from the blanket. "We have no water, my mysterious Elfling. Allow us to bring you some from the brook. We shall be just a moment."

Although Elrond cast the Elven lady a glance, he followed her obediently from the picnic area until they were out of earshot. "You know as well as I that there is plenty of water in the basket," he said quietly. "You wish to speak of our new friend."

"What do you think of him?" Celebrían murmured.

"He is related to royalty," Elrond replied, hesitating for not even a second to consider his words. "It is the way he carries himself, among much else."

"But whose could he possibly be? No royal Elf beside us has had a child for a long while. Our children are the youngest in Arda," Celebrían reminded her husband. "Or at least, they were. It is clear that this boy has seen very few summers."

"And yet, there is something that makes him seem older."

"His eyes..."

Although his foresight was not much in comparison to the daughter of Galadriel, Elrond was wise enough to know one thing. "He has seen something an Elfling should never witness. His ideas of reaching Greenwood are foolish. We must discover the identity of his parents and escort him back. I do not doubt there is a terrified mother and father somewhere in the woods."

Turning away and starting the walk back towards the glade, a distant look overcame Celebrían's fair face. "I always hoped our sons would look more like him. His eyes are beautiful."

"You should not have married a Noldo," Elrond retorted. "Besides, do you not like that they take after their father?"

Celebrían smiled and slid her dainty arm into the other Elf's strong one. "You know I love you."

"Aye. Your mother does not seem to share that adoration," Elrond mentioned grumpily.

In response to the words as they re-entered the grove in which they had hoped to hold their romantic picnic, Celebrían smacked his arm playfully, although her laughter faltered at the sight which greeted them. Legolas sat unmoved where they had left him, though a large squirrel was perched upon his shoulder and a similarly sized rabbit jumped nimbly around his feet. The sudden entrance of the couple startled the animals, but only the rabbit fled. The squirrel remained seated, apparently enjoying the view from his position. Elrond and his wife shared a look of amusement as they settled down once more upon the blanket.

"You must be a Wood-elf to be so familiar with animals." Celebrían spoke brightly, her voice perfectly tuned for the sensitive hearing of a child.

Legolas simply nodded and gently removed the squirrel from his shoulder to place it atop Aloysius, before making a motion for it to depart. Strangely enough, the creature inclined its body towards the young child and scampered away. Catching the stare of the two amazed Elves before him, Legolas shrugged slightly. He was so accustomed to receiving such looks that he had begun to ignore them now.

"Nameless one," Celebrían said, softly breaking the silence. "Would you like to play a game?"

"It depends upon what game that would be," Legolas answered carefully.

"Listen to the rules. You have my permission to ask of me any question you desire, and I shall happily tell you the answer," Celebrían explained. "Then our roles reverse, and I do the same for you."

Shaking his blond head, Legolas played absently with a blade of grass. A small sigh left his lips. "You just want to know who I am. Very well, ask me something."

"You are from Greenwood, yes?" Celebrían smiled as she received a nod. "Your parents were born in Greenwood." There was silence as the boy thought, then came another nod. "You are now living in Lóthlorien; you, your ada and nana, correct?"

This time, Legolas' head swayed from one side to the other. "My ada and I live here. My nana lives in Mandos. She is not really living, though...since she is in Mandos.

Elrond could not help but flinch at that. No child should have to speak such words. "Why do you wish to return to Greenwood?"

"I just want to go home. Ada doesn't want to because he's afraid of his father, but I miss it there. It is the only thing that Nana ever truly loved, besides Ada and I," Legolas reflected softly. "I think that perhaps if I go home... Maybe it will not hurt as much."

"Why does your ada fear his father?"

"Because my grandfather killed my nana."

As Celebrían let out a gasp, Elrond's glass of wine became one with the grass. "Sweet Valar," he muttered.

There was only silence between the three. One was unwilling to continue his tale of heartbreak, two were unwilling to interrogate him further for more painful answers. None of them really knew how long the quietude went on for before Elrond shattered it. "Why do you want to leave your father, the only one you have left?" He received a warning glance from his wife, but he ignored it and focused his eyes upon Legolas.

"We had an argument. I am sure it was silly," the child whispered.

Wrapping her arm around the small form and pulling Legolas into her chest, Celebrían breathed into his golden hair, "If that is the case, perhaps you should be walking in the other direction. Very little is worth running away. If the quarrel was meaningless, as you say, I can assure you that your father will be feeling as awful as you do now."

"I don't want to..."

"What?"

"Go back."

"Why not? You fear his anger?" Elrond asked softly. "Perhaps he will scold you for this little adventure, but more than anything else, he will be pleased to have you back. Believe me."

Turning his blue eyes away, Legolas bit on his lip doubtfully. "Do you promise? I just... The son of a warrior should be braver, but I am frightened to face my father alone. He is not angry often, but he has a bad temper and can lose it quickly. Would one of you mind coming with me...please?"

Elrond shared a glance with Celebrian. It was a question that did not truly need an answer, but he nodded nonetheless. "Of course, young one. But you have yet to tell us your name. Or your father's, for that matter."

"You have not told me yours," Legolas countered.

"I am Elrond, my wife is Celebrian," the dark haired Elf said with a smile.

Inclining his head towards them, the youngest immortal drew a breath. "I am Legolas," he murmured. "Son of Thranduil, the former...and yet still crowned prince of Greenwood."

There was silence as Elrond and Celebrian digested this newest piece of information, although once again, it was broken by another question just moments later. "Who was your mother?"

"You would not know her. She was no princess, nor a noble lady," Legolas said shyly. That uncomfortable quiescence greeted them again, and he shifted slightly. "Will you take me home now? Well, not home. But back?"

Giving his wife a brief smile, Elrond nodded and guided the child out of the clearing. They were well within the safe borders of Lothlorien, and he knew that no harm would befall Celebrian if he left her alone.

"Have you ever met my ada?" Legolas asked, slipping his tiny hand into the other Elf's larger one.

Elrond smiled again, but this one did not meet his eyes. "We met before at a meeting of realms. It was not quite what I would call pleasant. Perhaps this time our relations may improve somewhat."

"I doubt that," Legolas shook his head.

The two immortal beings remained silent as they walked deeper and deeper into the very heart of Lothlorien. The sound of echoing hoofbeats could be heard from somewhere up ahead, but warning from the surrounding trees had already sent Legolas back a step to stand behind his guardian. He knew who was coming; he knew too that he feared their reaction upon seeing him.

Thranduil rode into view, his fair face unreadable and devoid of emotion. Elrond had seen such an expression upon his own face in times of trouble, and his eyes flickered in concern as they met a hard blue gaze. The Prince dismounted gracefully even before the horse came to a halt, and the three stood in awkward silence.

"Lord Elrond," he nodded.

"Prince Thranduil."

"I see you have discovered my errant son," the blond Elf observed.

Glancing at the shy child, Elrond nodded concurrence. "Aye, I did indeed. He had become lost on a walk through the woodland. I felt it my duty to lead him back, lest he stray again from the path."

"I thank you," Thranduil said shortly, the narrowing of his eyes a sharp contrast to his words.

Elrond managed a tight smile. "It was no trouble."

After finishing the formalities, Thranduil finally made eye contact with his son. "Come, Legolas. We have much to speak of."

The Elfling kept his gaze focused wholly on the ground as he walked towards his father's horse. He could not meet the eyes that were so similar to his own, he could not bring himself to attempt understanding of the steely pools. Behind him, Thranduil drew in a deep breath. The insecurity about losing the one thing he had left was no more than a memory, but the fear had not vanished. Despite that, on his face he held no emotion. He would not allow himself to appear weak. His father had always taught him that.

He lifted Legolas and placed him gently upon the horse's back. A moment before he too was about to mount, a hand touched his arm, holding him still. He turned sharply to face the other Elf, the flash of his eyes indicating that whatever Elrond wanted to say, he had best say swiftly.

"Please, do not be harsh on the child. He thought irrationally. All he wanted was to go home."

"Lord Elrond, I know how to raise my son," Thranduil returned, his tone more prideful than angry. "Goodday."

Swinging himself up onto the horse and wheeling it around in the other direction, the prince placed a hand in front of his child to keep the Elfling balanced. The ride back to their temporary home was swift, the gallop ensuring that they reached their destination in a matter of minutes, and even when they dismounted, no words were exchanged. Legolas could not find the courage within himself to apologize. He could almost feel his father's coldness like a block of ice. He shivered reflexively, an action which made Thranduil flinch too. But still nothing was said. It was not until they got inside the house with the door securely shut that the dreaded conversation began.

"Why did you run?"

Legolas blinked, shocked that his father's tone was so softly calm. He had not expected that. "You are not angry with me?"

"I am more worried than angry. How could you leave, penneth? Am I nothing to you?" Thranduil asked quietly.

The child could not help but wince at that. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words would not come. He did not know how best to answer. "Ada... I love you. I do. I just... I wanted to go...home."

Rising sharply, Thranduil let out a feral growl in the back of his throat. "Why do we keep going back to this? Your home is not in Greenwood! Understood?"

Legolas did not respond verbally, but defiance shone brightly in his eyes, speaking where his lips remained closed. Intense and uncontrollable anger towards his son flowed through Thranduil's veins; all of the many emotions he had forced himself to hold back were rising to the surface, and he knew that this time he could not hide them.

"Why must you be so selfish?" he hissed, his voice like icicles. The tone almost made Legolas shiver. It reminded him of another Elf he had heard speak only once before. "Do you not think that I too suffer from this? Well?" Leaning down and grabbing his son's shoulders, Thranduil shook the boy hard. "Can you even begin to imagine what I went through when you left? How could you be so unbelievably incapable of thinking?"

"Ada-

Ignoring the wild fear in Legolas' eyes as he tried to pull away, Thranduil tightened his grip. He was a warrior, and that fighter's strength was making itself known. "You cannot just go wandering around Lothlorien on your own. You could have been hurt, and Valar knows what else. Sweet Elbereth, how could you be so foolish?"

As though to punctuate the end of his tirade, the Elf drew his arm back and slapped Legolas across the face. The force of the blow coupled with the pain and shock sent the child sprawling upon the floor, his alabaster skin burning brightly as tears pooled in his eyes. There was only silence for a moment, until the horror worn openly by his son pierced Thranduil's fury, rendering it something of the past.

"Legolas," he breathed. He reached out to try and touch his child, but the Elfling backed away.

"I'm sorry, Ada..."

Letting himself fall to his knees, Thranduil felt tears sting at his eyes. "What have I done?" He made another attempt to reconcile with his son, but Legolas kept his distance. "Forgive me, penneth. Please... I should not have let myself lose control. I was wrong to..."

As horror and undeniable guilt flooded his father's gaze, Legolas nodded and slowly moved forwards. "I didn't mean to make you angry," he said in a small voice. "I just...wanted to see Nana."

"I never meant to hurt you," Thranduil whispered, pulling the boy to his chest.

"And I never meant to run away."

With a soft smile, the older Elf brushed strands of gold from his child's eyes. Legolas cuddled close to him, but the contact gave him no comfort. Even after his violence, he was still so trusted. "Then, it seems that we both have much to apologize for. Valar, this will not happen again. I will never raise my hand to you, I swear it."

"I am very tired, Ada," Legolas said quietly. "I just wish to go to bed, and forget what has happened today."

Although he sighed softly, Thranduil stood up and carried his son through their home and into the sleeping chamber. Minutes passed before the Elfling was ready to seek slumber, dressed in a new night tunic with his face washed.

"I love you, Greenleaf," Thranduil murmured as he tucked the boy into bed.

"I love you too. Ada..."

"Yes, penneth?"

"I forgive you."

Those three words were enough to assure Thranduil that some hope remained in the world, and he smiled slightly. "Thank you, ion-nin. May the Valar watch over your dreams." He did not leave the doorway, waiting until his son's eyes closed and the boy drifted almost immediately into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

**I went a bit crazy so it's quite long. I promise to update in 2 WEEKS! Did you like it? Have you read so far and enjoyed it, but just haven't had the time to review. Well stop feeling GUILTY (trying to imply something here) and REVIEW! Finals are coming up with only a couple days of school left. Make my day..my week...and my vacation. Please review!! **


	9. Last Alliance

Hi my loyal reviewers and fans! (though I know little of who you are, or even if i have any)

It's amazing, i've updated! I'd actually like to see this story posted by the end of August, so updates will be coming regularly and quickly! I'm sure you'll all enjoy that. I also got a fantastic tan, (I usually have pretty fair skin, ((not as fair as some)) )

Apparently my last chapter wasn't that good from the lack of reviews, so please, if you have a heart, and if you have the time (which you certainly do because it's summer) take the time and review. It takes less then 60 seconds, and you'll make this girl's day.

Thanks to my few loyal and very sweet reviewers: 

Ampria (you are so sweet), AnnaethGreenleaf (ever so faithful), ShinigamiSaisei (also loyal),

Gord and V, (you've been with me from the beginning, what can I possibly say?),

Calenlass Greenleaf (also been with me from the beginning), lillypop (you are a sweetheart)

Anyways, I hope the reviewers and fans out there (if i have fans...) will like this chapter! It's

one of my favorites, mainly because I don't really like Galadriel and I get to bash her here!

* * *

Sunlight shone against Legolas' face, the pure naturalness of the rays making beautiful music in his slumbering mind. Ever since his mother had died he had become much more open to the songs of both flora and fauna, to a greater extent than he had been even in Greenwood. He shifted slightly in bed, softly inhaling the air that surrounded him. The air was tinged with something, a bit of spice perhaps? Realization hit a moment later and he sat up swiftly. The smell reminded him of when he would wake up at home to the scent of his mother's cooking. Home… It seemed so far away, now that he was in a foreign kingdom with Elves who looked upon him in disdain. He just wanted to go home. No, that was not all he wanted.

"I wish everything was how it used to be," he murmured, his voice barely audible. The smell wafted in again, and Legolas rolled out of bed. His feet thumped gently upon the floor and he pulled a light robe around himself as he went towards a mirror balanced on the dresser.

His thoughts drifted to when his mother would come and braid his hair every morning without fail. Now he had to do it himself. Brushing away a stray tear, he picked up the brush and tried to slowly work away the few tangles in his golden locks. After a few minutes of meticulous and painful work, his hair was soft and silky. He searched in the drawers until he located a stretch of leather. He could not yet braid without making a few knots, but he could easily put it out of his face. That would please his naneth, even though she was not present to see. He slowly slid the leather around his hair, tying it until not a single strand was out of place.

Unsure of where to find some clean clothes, Legolas walked out of the room to go and look for the one making such delicious smells. He thought it might have been his father or the young elleth who sometimes looked after him, but how mistaken he was. Wearing an apron with small streaks of flour marring it was the great Galadriel. Now the Elfling truly wished he was still in bed. He watched her in silence. Whilst she was aware of his presence, she feigned ignorance and allowed him to scrutinize her from behind.

Pulling himself up to one of the chairs at the table, Legolas' eyes narrowed. Galadriel moved with grace, but he did not see it as so. She did not remind him of his naneth. She was stiff, her chin lifted proudly. Her eyes did not shine or hold diamonds as his mother's had. He did not like this woman. _"But she is your friend,"_ the trees whispered.

"_She is cold and stiff."_

As soon as the child had begun to make contact with the trees, Galadriel felt the hair on the back of her neck prick. She felt such strong power emanating from this boy. Although she refused to turn and acknowledge his presence, she used gentle tendrils of her immense power to pry open the young mind and listen to the conversation.

"_Our lady is not so once you know her."_

"_If this lady of whom you speak is truly supposed to help me, why must she act heartless in public yet have a heart in private? What you have privately should show publicly, otherwise you are lying,"_ Legolas replied angrily.

"_She does not wear her heart on her sleeve, young one. She is not a Wood-elf, she guards her heart wisely,"_ the trees rebuked gently. "_Unlike you do."_

"_I am sorry for my strong tongue. I did not even know there was a difference between my father's people and hers. I will try harder not to be so rude."_ Legolas felt the trees smile, but they remained silent. "Why do you call her your lady?"

"_She is not our lady yet, but she soon will be. She has great powers, young one. Someday you will understand."_

As the words resounded in his head, Legolas immediately felt another presence. His bright eyes swung to meet a pair of sapphire ones as Galadriel turned to look at him.

"It isn't nice to eavesdrop on other people's conversations. Were you not taught manners when you were young, or were your powers so great you ignored them?" he bristled with childish anger. The trees berated him, giving a reminder that he was speaking to an elder. "I am sorry, but I do not like it when you ask without permission to view my thoughts. It's not very nice."

Galadriel's voice was soft and controlled, though inside she felt a number of emotions. "You are right, young one. I should not have entered into your mind. But one of your age does not often hold such power without acknowledgement."

Legolas raised one eyebrow in a mirror image of Thranduil. "I know not of what you speak, Lady."

"Someday, your powers will be uncovered."

"Only to the benefit of those less fortunate than ourselves." Not noticing the swiftly masked surprise at his words of wisdom, Legolas pressed on. "Why do you act as though you feel nothing, and yet you must do? You do not even seem to contain a heart." His voice changed with the cutting words, and his eyes took on a strange hue of turquoise.

"You should learn to curb your tongue," Galadriel warned, her body stiffened.

"Actions speak louder than words. Perhaps you should heed the saying and stop acting like you're higher than everyone else," Legolas said shortly.

Galadriel turned on her heel, her sapphire eyes filled with anger. "How dare you…?"

Lowering his gaze at the reminder of his place, the Elfling's head shook slowly. "I am sorry. It was not right of me to speak in such a way, but I only say what I see." He spoke with childlike innocence, and the lady's eyes flared. "I don't like you. You don't care at all about anyone but yourself. Have you forgotten your people? Remember them, their hope lies in you and the King." Legolas looked down and licked his lips. "May I have some cordial, please?" Galadriel looked at him in surprise. It seemed that another force had taken over his mind and body, and now the little boy was back. She slowly poured the drink and handed him a small cup. He sipped slowly, staring at her over the rim with wide eyes.

"Thank you. Just because I don't like you, it doesn't mean we can't be friends. That's if you promise not to look in my mind again."

Before Galadriel could respond, Thranduil walked slowly out of his room. His footsteps were light as he came barefoot into the kitchen, and a small smile graced his features as he leaned down to kiss his son's forehead. It was a moment before he even noticed the presence of another. "Morning, penneth."

"Good morning, Ada," Legolas said, biting into a peach nearly as large as his fist.

"Lady Galadriel, forgive me. I was not aware you were here."

The woman smiled, her feminine smile doing as he had asked. "Worry not. Your son and I were having a wonderful time getting to know each other."

"She went into my mind without permission," Legolas nodded. "And then I said some things that Nana told me never to say to my elders and in a tone that you told me never to speak in, but it is alright now. I still don't like her, but we shall be friends."

Thranduil looked at his son, then briefly at Galadriel, before back at the Elfling. "Why did Elbereth grace me with such a blunt son, hmm?" He kissed the top of Legolas' head again, whispering soft words in Sindarin and affirming his fatherly affection towards him.

"I love you too, Ada," Legolas said, chewing on his peach.

"Sons of princes don't talk whilst eating. Swallow then say it again," Thranduil rebuked gently.

Legolas obediently swallowed the piece of fruit. "I love you too, Ada."

Walking to the far end of the kitchen where the wine was kept, Thranduil inhaled the scent of the cooking food and tilted his head to look at the woman still trying to understand daintily. "Lady Galadriel…" He sniffed daintily and leaned over the stove, remembering from early experiences in the kitchen never to touch any food whilst the cook was present in the room. "Is something burning?"

As Galadriel gasped and glided over to stand at the other Elf's side, Legolas walked calmly to a pail of water clearly positioned for emergencies such as this. He was more intent on his half finished fruit than the fire, but the moment flames leapt up his attention was focused immediately. He could see his father debating putting out the fire, but Oropher was not there and so Thranduil allowed himself to do something that a prince never should.

"Ai! Somebody help!"

Galadriel attempted to grab rags and douse the flames, but this did nothing but ignite them further. Clearly neither Elf had taken lessons in cooking. Legolas stood in the corner and shook his head at the absurdity of the situation. His father, a hardened warrior, could not even contain a kitchen fire. Thranduil grabbed Galadriel's arm and attempted to push her from the room, although the pools of water and oil on the floor proved fatal and resulted in an ungraceful descent to the floor. As the flames rose higher, Legolas placed his peach on the table and dragged the large pail of water to the fire. Watching his balance so as not to meet the same fate as his father and Galadriel, he hoisted the bucket and threw the water. The flames were doused instantly, and the Elfling went back to his seat, picked up his peach and resumed eating as though nothing had occurred. The older Elves were still attempting to rise, looking like a pair of either humans or lovers as they struggled.

"My darling! Whatever happened?" The cry came from Celeborn just as Galadriel stood up, and he moved her swiftly away from the hissing stove. The Wood-elf prince remained on the floor, and slowly a sound came that nobody in the room expected. A laugh. An Elf who had just lost his wife did not laugh, but this one did. "Thranduil, what happened?"

"She… Then I…"

Legolas continued to eat his peach, his eyes twinkling with childish mirth as his father struggled with an explanation. "Ada? I am hungry."

"Very well, penneth. Let us depart," Thranduil smiled, lifting the boy into his arms and sauntering away from the kitchen, fully intending to deposit Legolas with Haldir and drive the Silvan Elf into insanity.

Legolas sat sprawled on the living room floor. He had been drawing away to his heart's content with his furry friend Aloysius sitting nearby, whilst listening to story being read to him. Thranduil raised his eyes every so often to glance at the child's peculiar friend. The fact that it was a stuffed teddy bear did not bemuse him, but Legolas treated her as he would another Elf. But then again, his son was and always had been a confusing child to understand.

King Amdír had returned to Lothlórien after being away for nearly eight months, which was almost the length of time Legolas and his father had been free from Oropher's clutches. A knock on the door came, but Thranduil paid it no heed. Frankly, he could not care less. He continued reading as the person outside rapped once more on the wooden panels, raising his voice slightly to rise above the intruder. Legolas looked up from his comfortable position, gazing at the door.

"Ada…"

Thranduil stopped. "Yes, penneth?"

"Aloysius says somebody is outside."

"Does she now?" Sighing at his son's serious nod, Thranduil closed the child's book. "Enter."

Haldir sauntered in at the permission, his outfit a silver tunic paired with a darker pair of leggings. He wore no weapons except the concealed dagger in his boots which he was never without. "Legolas, why don't you go and play in your room with Aloysius?" he suggested, motioning to the teddy bear close by.

The boy's eyes narrowed as he studied the older Elf. "You are sending me away to talk about tics."

"What, pray tell, is a tic?"

Legolas sighed loudly, and spoke as though he was addressing an git. "It is when you discuss matters in Lothlórien."

"Don't you mean politics?"

"Are they not tics?"

"Those are blood sucking creatures," Thranduil smiled.

"Actually, the root for politics is tics," Haldir corrected.

The Sinda turned his head slightly to glare at the other Elf, silencing him with that one look. "Penneth, shoo," he said, with the most fatherly affection he could muster. Legolas grinned and scurried away gracefully, fully aware of the two pairs of eyes following his lithe figure.

"Has he gained any weight?" Haldir asked, noting the child's small body.

"A little, thank the Valar. He seems to be healing nicely," Thranduil returned.

"Good. Have you heard…?" The silver haired immortal shook his head slightly. "Never mind me."

"Heard what? Tell me the scandal in Lothlórien," Thranduil pressed, laying aside the book he had been reading to Legolas. "Then we can sound like old gossiping wives."

"Well…Elrond's sons."

Thranduil laughed softly. "Aye, even I know of the twin terrors, no matter how sheltered everyone thinks Greenwood is. He deserves them, considering he was apparently a pest to so many elders as a child."

"I hear he was not the only one so evil," Haldir grinned, "but the other has an angel for a child."

"Perhaps I had my days," Thranduil smiled humorlessly. "But they are over now."

"Of course."

Silence fell, the joviality of the conversation killed by such seriousness and regret in the prince's voice. "Why did you come here?"

"I came on official business for King Amdír. Now that he is back in the Golden Wood, he has requested an audience with you," Haldir explained.

"Why?" Sparing the messenger a brief glare that was swiftly becoming famous in Middle-earth, Thranduil returned to his son's book and pretended to read it. "Why has he done that?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we'll just have to figure it out, won't we?" Thranduil smirked. "But you will have to stay here and entertain my son. I would hate to leave him alone. Haldir, do be careful with him. Don't cause any injury to him or let a single prank be played where he is at fault. I do not wish to punish my own child after the last… Is that clear?"

"As clear as Dorwinion," Haldir assured the other Elf.

Throwing a glance sideward that would have started a fire had he been gazing at wood, Thranduil left the house, slightly sullen as he walked down the stairs. There were only two reasons King Amdír could possibly have to summon him. Either he was being welcomed and invited to stay, which he doubted since Galadriel had already given provisional permission, or the audience was connected to the matter he had discussed with Celeborn about leading some of the Elves who were former inhabitants of Greenwood the Great into battle. The meeting was most likely about the latter, and Thranduil made up his mind in an instant to refuse. He had his son to think of. They would have to be mad to expect another answer, he thought bitterly as he stepped into the Lord's chamber. Once again it was a private discussion, with only Amdír, Celeborn and Galadriel. The prince bowed and they all inclined their heads in return.

"I am glad to see you looking well," Amdír said, his voice kind but no less commanding for it.

"Thank you, my Lord. It is good of you to allow me refuge in your country," Thranduil replied quietly.

Amdír smiled and nodded, but his face was a mask of serious impassiveness in a moment. "I think you know why we called you here."

"I can only suspect – and hope against – the obvious."

"Sauron has created an army, and his evil is infiltrating the lands faster than ever before," Amdír replied, motioning for Thranduil to join him at a small table where he laid a map of Middle-earth. "He attacks us separately, and possesses a weapon which makes victory for us an impossible notion."

Thranduil narrowed his eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"The only way we can have any hope of defeating him is to attack as one," Galadriel explained. "Separate forces are no longer enough."

"If Elves are willing to unite for the common good, this force must be beginning to overwhelm the land," Thranduil retorted sarcastically.

"Not just Elves. Humans too," Celeborn interjected.

The immortal from Greenwood considered this in contemplative thought. "I have not heard that evil is reaching this far. Lothlórien is greatly sheltered. Nothing has touched her."

"Each day the enemy gains more and more ground into our precious and beautiful realm. Few battles are won, and even Elves of great power are sent to the Halls of Mandos," Amdír said, shaking his head bitterly. "We need you."

Thranduil sighed as he looked down at the map, colored in shades of red to signify the enemy and blue for allies. Red almost overwhelmed the parchment like a gaping wound, and the blond Elf started out of reverie as a hand touched his arm. He had not grown up with evil or fighting playing a large part of his life. He would not let his son's childhood be ruled by only fear and death. He would protect Arda and Legolas at all cost. "What would you have me do?"

"You are well aware of the several hundreds of Elves that once lived in Greenwood the Great who still consider themselves citizens of your country, despite not condoning the way your father-

"King Oropher."

"King Oropher," Amdír acknowledged softly. "The way King Oropher rules. We need you to lead them into battle."

Thranduil just nodded. "What of my son? Could not that force of men stay behind and protect Lothlórien?"

"The few Elves who will remain are capable warriors. We are spreading ourselves thin enough as it is," Celeborn argued. "Our borders will only just be kept safe as we take all of the troops and settle them at Dagorlad."

"I cannot and will not leave my son," Thranduil said vehemently. "He means too much…"

"Nor can you take him with you. He may have watched his mother die," Galadriel replied, speaking from the heart, "but he is not prepared for the cruelties of war."

Looking to Amdír, Thranduil shook his head and turned to leave. "I cannot leave him. I am sorry."

"What is it you fear?" the King of Lothlórien murmured.

That simple question froze Thranduil in his tracks, and he spun around with flashing eyes. "Do you name me a coward?" he hissed, his pride stung.

"If the Valar wills you both dead, you cannot stop their wish. If the Valar wills you both to live, you will do so and you will prosper," Amdír chided, not unkindy.

"I will not take that risk…"

"Then you are a coward."

Thranduil instantly stiffened. "I have gone-

"You think only of yourself, son of Oropher! Elves dying daily, a tyrant invading Arda and all you can think about is your son. He will be killed," Amdír snapped, slamming his fist against the table. "He will be killed alone with the thousands of thousands of immortals who will die if Sauron wins. Either you fight and protect your child. Or you do not fight and you both die. Either way, Thranduil… Your life is in the hands of the Valar. I swear that nothing will harm your son while he remains in Lothlórien, but you _must _fight, for freedom…for life."

"I…" Thranduil's eyes lowered, and he nodded slowly. "I will go."

"The Last Alliance is complete," Galadriel murmured.

* * *

Did you like the chapter? I hope you did. Please take the time to REVIEW! I am getting pretty desperate. I'll give you a cookie. BTW, did you guys know that "Princess Bride" has a soundtrack?? It's very very good!!! Anyways, hope you guys like Legolas..and if you don't review, I might have to kidnap Aloysius, and hold her for ransom! 


	10. Stradegies

Hi everyone! Can you believe...only three or four chapters more, and I'M DONE! I think I may attempt either an older Legolas fic (make him visit Elladan & Elhorir) ((laughs manically)) or attempt something in Star Wars genre.

I would like to thank Mistopurr and hundred times over and over for betaing this chapter. She's amazing...brillant, and just...wow, she's spectacular.

And to my amazing and faithful reviewers (though few and far between you are)

lillypop, Ampria, Gord and V, Saiya, AnnaethGreenleaf,

Calenlass Greenleaf1! (THANK YOU!!!)

I am so close to achieving my GOAL OF 100 REVIEWS!! The past two chapters i've updated have apparently been failures, because of the lack of reviewers. I've honestly never recieved so few ((breaks down in tears)) I mean i've been really working hard, and nobody likes it. Have I lost ALLLL of my reviewers and readers?? ((cries some more))

People continue to ask me over...and over...Am I going to include Elladan and Elhorir? To tell you honestly...I do not know, but I am hoping my brain will include them. They may make a surprise entrance at one point. But they will not become MAJOR charactors in this story. That is why I am currently working on another story that includes them to the fullest.

* * *

As Thranduil started to walk around the camp, large droplets of rain began to assault him. He passed horses outside every tent, sensing from their laid back ears and the swish of their tails that they were no less overjoyed at the wet than he or the rest of the men. The Elven warriors could not find it within themselves to look fondly upon the dirty encampment which had become their home. They lived side by side with humans and dwarves to defeat evil, and nobody with a sane mind could have agreed to house so many strong willed fighters within such a small proximity.

"I hate rain," Thranduil muttered to himself, forgetting that he had once loved it. His mood had been coated with mud for a long time. He had yet to see a decent meal, and neither he nor his soldiers had been given the time for a proper wash. Worse than all of that, he missed his son. He survived the trivial hardships. He cared not for them; any warrior doing their duty could look past minor irritations. But surviving without his only child was so difficult, and he wished more than anything that he did not have to.

Images of Legolas swam in his mind as he took a path which led towards one of the main meeting tents. The Elvish generals had called a council with the commanders to inform them of enemy movements, and no doubt to argue over new strategies. Although many disliked the long talks, Thranduil did not mind them – they gave him something to think about. He sighed quietly as he drew nearer to his destination, but something suddenly froze him in his tracks. A horse. Just a horse, but one which made his heart pound. Whenever he saw that animal, he knew who would follow. His father's groom and his father. Everything seemed to slow around him, everything except his breath which was steadily quickening. A hand touched his shoulder, and he instinctively reached for a weapon as he spun around.

"Celeborn…"

"Good Valar, you are whiter than a pail of milk."

"My father is here."

"We needed him," Celeborn sighed, glancing towards the tent and placing a hand on the younger Elf's shoulder. "He has a substantial number of men. We could not do without the extra force."

"I care not how many you need," Thranduil retorted, his voice low and angry as he jerked back from the touch. "You could have at least informed me that I would have to deal with him."

"I am sorry. We thought it best that you knew nothing of his arrival-

"How long will he be staying?"

Celeborn's silver head shook briefly in reassurance. "Not long. He wishes to go to his own outpost, somewhat closer to Mordor. For more glory, no doubt."

"But at what cost?" Thranduil murmured.

"You know that you can stay away from this meeting," Celeborn suggested quietly.

"I know, but I do not run away from what I fear." Meeting the pitiful eyes before him as though challenging them to mock his admittance of fear, Thranduil held his head high. "I run towards it. That is the only way to have peace."

Receiving an admirable nod, he followed Celeborn to the tent and ducked beneath the flap, glancing discreetly around the large space to try and find his father's presence. The King was missing. With a soft breath, Thranduil took his place behind a chair positioned slightly lower than it should have been. He cared not. Ranking was the least important thing on his mind. As he studied those in attendance, Amdír and Gil-galad nodded in quiet greeting. The few high ranking humans made full bows in his direction. He nodded in return, before moving his attention onto the two strategists standing side by side at a table and gazing upon a worn map.

"As you are aware, everything that is spoken in here remains exactly in this place. We do not need the men knowing and discussing what we do. Their morale is vital to this Alliance, and we cannot allow it to fall any further than it has done already. Prince Thranduil, you are aware of King Oropher's entrance to the camp. Will he be inclined to listen to our orders?"

Slowly considering all the aspects of his father that he was trying so hard to forget, Thranduil shook his head. "Oropher… He will adhere to anything if it suits him."

"I see," Gil-galad said quietly, understanding the Elf he would be up against. "The next affair to be discussed is our spies…"

A hand thrust through the back edge of the canvas, and Oropher entered as dramatically as his status and character denoted. Out of instinct, Thranduil and the other commanders stood. Not out of respect, but because the King was a valuable asset to the battle. He strode straight towards Gil-galad, his dark gaze furious. Whether he saw the Elf whose life he had torn apart was anyone's guess, for he made no acknowledgements.

"Lord Gil-galad!" Oropher roared. "I demand to see the son of an Orc who is commanding a legion of Greenwood Elves that should be under _my _command!"

"Then you have just insulted yourself, Lord Oropher," Thranduil smirked. In spite of his words and cool tone, he shook slightly as the realization hit that he was addressing the one who had last seen his wife alive.

Oropher whirled around to face the speaker, only to find himself staring into a mirror. "You!"

"It is I, dearest Adar. Did you think me dead already?" Thranduil asked quietly. "No, I have much to live for. Revenge, for instance."

The King of Greenwood shifted uncomfortably, but his gaze was no less angry for his discomfort. Unaware of the glances passed between Celeborn and Amdír which clearly said the situation needed to be resolved swiftly, he took a step forwards. "Tell me," he murmured, aiming to hit as low as he could, "how is your illegitimate son?"

Thranduil's eyes darkened furiously. Celeborn was the first to notice the ominous change in shade, and immediately stepped forwards to halt a lunge he had seen coming. "It is not worth any of that," he breathed. "Do not give him the pleasure of reaching you."

Nodding briefly to acknowledge the advice, the anger did not cease searing through Thranduil's soul. "Do not dare to put my child's birth with your own."

"How dare you? You little-

As a stream of Elvish curses flew across the tent, Amdír moved out of place to block another foreseen attack. "You will not lower the men's morale any further by fighting with your son," he berated the Greenwood King coldly.

"My son? My _son_?" Oropher laughed. "He died when he married that whore! What was her name? Elranna?"

Celeborn glanced at Thranduil, and knew that the younger Elf could not decide whether he wanted to cry or kill. He had lost control of the game once more. "Oropher, you will stay far away from him. Is that understood?" he hissed. Without waiting for an answer, the silver haired Lord gripped Thranduil's arm and pretended to push him forcefully from the tent, anything to get him away.

Once outside, Thranduil quietly said that he wished only to be left alone with his thoughts, and walked away from the meeting area in no particular area until he came across a river, the only clean water source close to the battleground. As he neared the river, his mind took a detour and settled on his son. Legolas had contacted him on that fateful night so long ago. Could he do the same now? Settling himself on the damp ground near the stream, he attempted to calm himself after the encounter with his wife's murderer.

"Valar, why did this happen to me?" he whispered, hiding his face in both hands.

"Because they knew it would make you stronger," a soft voice murmured.

Thranduil whipped his head around to find Elrond standing a short way behind. He gazed coolly for a moment; company had been the last thing on his mind. Turning back to face the river with no intentions of apologizing for his manner or his rudeness on all the other occasions they had met, he watched through his peripheral vision as his cold glare was ignored. "You really do not take hints, Peredhil. Do you?"

"I try not to."

"Elrond, I wish to be left alone," Thranduil said quietly, fixing his eyes on the water flowing before him. The silver liquid reminded him of the tears he shed when darkness fell. It did not occur to him even for a moment that he needed a friend.

"Forcing down your emotions does nothing to help," Elrond said gently.

"How dare you give me advice on what I should do when you know nothing of loss?" Thranduil snapped, glaring at the dark haired Elf.

Elrond sighed, and was silent for a few seconds before he sat too and spoke in a low voice. "My twin brother Elros chose a mortal life. I watched him die, and that was worse than anything I could imagine. I used to wonder that perhaps it would be better, had he never been born."

Thranduil's stiff posture relaxed slightly. "I am sorry…"

"You still have hope," Elrond said urgently, trying to make the Sindarin Elf understand. "Although the Valar only know when, you will see her again. I will never look upon my brother unless I dream. You _will _be with Elranna."

"You give me the same advice that Celeborn did," Thranduil said, his mouth twitching in an attempt to hide a smile.

Elrond wrinkled his nose. "I abhor the notion that I may be becoming my father-in-law." He received the smallest of smiles in response to the words, and sighed softly as it disappeared almost immediately. "How is Legolas?"

"He is well. Or so he was when last I saw him," Thranduil murmured. He had to blink swiftly to hide the sudden dampness of his eyes.

"And you… How are you after your father's appearance?"

"Word passes fast in the camp."

"Among officers it does. Answer the question."

"To do so truthfully… I feel horrible."

"I can only imagine." Elrond placed his hand on Thranduil's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him, but the golden haired Elf flinched at the physical contact. No one ever touched him unless they were trying to restrain him, or trying to get something. "It must be very hard for you."

"What do you want?" Thranduil asked suddenly, looking into his companion's grey eyes and expecting to see false compassion.

"What do I want? To be your friend, to try and help you. I cannot let you find light alone. You have struggled too much," Elrond said softly, "and have not come far enough to stay alive for your son. You will fade, Thranduil. I will not let that happen."

Thranduil could not help but be surprised. The only person he allowed close and thought of as a friend was Aramas, and even that friendship was not normal. It was more of a commander to soldier relationship than anything else. He nodded slowly, accepting Elrond's vehement vow in silence. Strangely enough, he felt somewhat comforted already.

"Elros and I were closer than many children can be. We would finish each other's sentences, know each other's thoughts. There were even times when we achieved a telepathic bond," Elrond recalled fondly. Then the brightness in his eyes dimmed slightly. "But of course, he is dead now."

Thranduil's nod was an absent one. "Did you say telepathy?"

"We could communicate mentally, but only under extreme duress, so to speak," Elrond explained.

There was only silence as Thranduil contemplated his next question. "When you did that, what did it feel like?"

"Ah, I see." Elrond studied his companion carefully. "You have communicated with Legolas. Is that not so?"

"On the night Elranna was…the night she died."

"Elranna?"

"My wife."

"The… Elranna," Elrond repeated shakily. "Daughter of Darius, blonde hair, gray eyes. She died in a blue dress?"

Thranduil went deathly pale. "For the love of Elbereth, how could you know that? No one…"

"I had a dream a year or so ago. I remember it well. It started as a series of dreams, and…" Elrond appeared uncomfortable speaking of the matter, and he released a long sigh as the other Elf's skepticism became apparent. "You do not believe in seeing the future?"

"I am a Wood-elf," Thranduil replied scornfully. "My people have their superstitions. I base what I believe on all that I see and feel. I do not trust things that appear to be coincidence."

"You believe in logic," Elrond clarified.

"Is that wrong?"

Elrond smirked. "You have a son who communicated with you telepathically. Let us see how long you trust logic."

"He also talks to trees." Thranduil didn't miss a beat, and shrugged at the raised eyebrow he received for his words. "It is true. He has an unbelievable relationship with them. He talks, they talk back to him."

"I thought most of your kind speak with the trees, you doe-eyed Wood-elf," Elrond frowned.

"Of course, half-elf," Thranduil retorted. "Only when they reach adulthood."

"My father always told me that if a child has an extraordinary ability, their life too will be extradordinary."

"I thought you were adopted," Thranduil smirked.

"Only an extremely spoiled and pedantic brat would say that. I see you will make life as a friend very difficult," Elrond sighed, with feigned regret that he had ever offered help.

"I do try."

Rolling his eyes at the cheeky grin flashed his way, Elrond rose and shook his dark head. "If you continue to try, you will not be getting that glass of Dorwinion I was keeping back for you."

"Vintage?"

"Sweet Valar, you are picky."

As they stood and headed towards Elrond's tent, both he and Thranduil gave smiles that heralded the start of an eternal friendship.

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Please, If you have a heart (which i begin to wonder if you do) Please, PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!! I will never get any reviews when i'm done with this story! And authors work hard, so SHOW SOME LOVE! 


	11. The EndI'm SorryThe Ring has Returned

Hello Everyone!

Isn't it amazing? I have finally updated! For those who care, I returned from my vacation in Europe on August. 23. I admit I have been lazy in writing. Forgive me, hopefully this chapter will make up for the time I have spent. Thank you all my reviewers who reviewed my last chapter and while I was away. It ment alot to me. Anyways I'd like to thank my wonderful beta (drum role)

**_MISTOPURR _**

She did a wonderful job with this chapter. Go read her new story, its spectacular! (and about Thranduil)

Anyways, this is my LAST CHAPTER! I will be writing a sequel, I promise the next story will move along much quicker then this one. Unfortuantly Elladan and Elhorir will not appear in this story, but in the next one.. (GRINS) They make quite a few apperances (GRINS EVILY). Please enjoy the chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

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Chapter 10

Life passed on as usual, as usual as it could outside the Black Gates of Mordor. The sky was ever a horrifyingly dark color; the sun never rose. The men's morale was quickly disintegrating, and even the most hopeful souls despaired. To win a war where the odds were so desperately against them just wasn't possible. To many, there was simply no hope of winning.

Two leaders of elves, however, appeared almost blissfully unaware of the dark shadow. One was inseparable from the other, and little passed without the other knowing. They were friends, forever connected too by a shared love of a young elf currently residing in Lothlórien. Indeed, history muses that Elrond's companionship saved Thranduil during the dark times and kept him from fading.

A throat was cleared outside Thranduil's tent to announce Aramas. Both royal elf and his friend looked up from a map and a bottle of wine to view the warrior's entrance. Aramas bowed formally to both of them before speaking: "Caun-nin, there is an elf out here who demands to see you."

Thranduil raised one eyebrow as he took a seat. "How many times have I asked you not to call me that?"

Elrond held down a snort as Aramas' ears turned bright red to the very tip. "Perhaps you should have him flogged as the humans do their soldiers," he said with mirth.

"I must protest, sir, it is not that much of a mistake," Aramas replied nervously, glancing at his leader in utter horror.

Thranduil allowed himself a small smile before answering. "Valar knows I'd never order something like that. I don't know an elf in camp who would do it." As the warrior flashed him a relieved look, he shook his head. "Good Valar, do you know me so little?"

"Well, sir… A few days ago you told every human in camp that if they disobeyed your order you'd turn them into frogs – female frogs."

As Elrond laughed aloud, tilting his head back and letting dark hair fall off his shoulders, Thranduil glanced at him. "Oh, quiet. It was worth seeing their expressions. They have never met an elf before this, so perhaps I can turn them into frogs to the best of their knowledge, if they continue to annoy me so."

"Aye, if you have a wizard on your side," Elrond retorted, taking a sip of his wine.

"Let m'lord Elrond not forget what good friends Thranduil is with wizards," Aramas said seriously.

"Oh, Aramas," Thranduil chided, leaning back in his chair and resting his feet on the edge of the table. "Do not lie to Elrond. The last time I met a wizard, I strung him up in a tree by his hands and left him to a swarm of bees. I don't think any wizards are on my side." Suddenly he changed the subject, like a child distracted. "Who is the elf waiting outside?"

Elrond bit back another laugh as he listened to Thranduil. Being around someone slightly younger than he made him feel alive again. It was almost like having Elros back again.

"He will not give his name, but he says he has a letter of introduction from somebody you knew," Aramas replied.

"I hope it is no recommendation from my father, because I will not accept him. Send him in," Thranduil sighed. "We will see what good it does."

Aramas nodded deeply and turned swiftly on his heel, narrowly missing one of the main poles in the tent in his haste. Thranduil grinned like a jester at Elrond, although it vanished as a tall blonde elf entered the tent. He stood at attention, his eyes staring hard at the back canopy. His hair was more yellow than Thranduil's silver hair, and he looked younger than most of the elves enlisted. His body was lithe, but mostly thin, and his clothes did not appear to be elvish make. Elrond observed the lad. Something in the way he stood or perhaps in his face reminded him of someone he once knew. His mind returned to the funeral of the great Glorfindel. He had been just a child then, but it was the first time he had ever seen an elf...dead.

Thranduil got to his feet and nodded at the young elf. "What can I do for you? Are you seeking to enlist?"

The newcomer was silent. He slowly removed his eyes from the back wall of the tent to meet the eyes of the royal elf standing before him. As Thranduil gazed into them, he knew that this adolescent elf standing before him was not inexperienced in the act of war.

"I am seeking Elrond of Rivendell. Once I find him you will know my reason for coming here." The elf paused; his speech was slow and deliberate. His accent had a slight trace of Greenwood in it, but something else overpowered it, another accent that had not been heard in Arda for some time. "I promised a youngster in Lothlórien I would deliver this letter to you."

As he was handed a thin envelope by the mysterious elf, Thranduil felt shaken. Was it possible that this stranger had seen his son? He slowly took the letter and sat down before fully looking at it. There was no name on the front, but he turned it over nonetheless to uncover the letter inside.

Although Elrond was deeply happy for his friend, he could not help but stare at the visitor. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously. "Why do you seek Elrond of Rivendell?"

The unknown elf slowly moved his gray eyes across the tent. "I am charged by the Valar to protect him from any and all harm."

As Elrond raised one cynical eyebrow, Thranduil looked up from the letter in disbelief. "But how can this be? Who are you?"

"I am what the letter from your son says. Glorfindel of Gondolin. Reborn."

* * *

The battle was soon to start. The commanders had chosen a date and a strategy, and had created a burial ground for many hundreds of elves and humans. As they waited, the men were nervous. Even with adrenaline rushing through their veins, few were eager to begin fighting. The elves controlled themselves more than the mortals. Every human was tense, their minds reviewing all their past memories as their lives started flashing before their eyes. What the elves did, none could tell, for they showed nothing. Not even the hint of nervousness. But they certainly felt it. 

Thranduil stood in front of his battalion of men. Waiting, watching the horizon for light that would never come. Somewhere in the far depths of his imagination he hoped that the Valar would suddenly appear and vanquish all evil on the land. And yet, he knew he would have to fight his own fight. Perhaps even survive it.

He was beginning to see the dark rising on the horizon. Darker then usual. He could almost feel his men quaking behind him. Though they showed no physical fear, he could feel it radiating off of them. Thranduil turned; he would die willingly to save their lives. But his life would not be enough.

"My friends." He spoke loudly above the tumult of preparation for battle. "I come to you not only as a leader, but as a father who has a son. A husband who once had a wife. I know that each of you have ones whom you love. Though they are far away they are still near to your hearts. Do not think for a moment that if you fail to give your all they will live. If we do not defeat this evil then it will overcome the land. Ravaging it, making it the very evil that we abhor at this moment. If we do not stop this evil here and now then it will overcome your homes and families. Be strong, my friends, and know that the battle is not over until not one of us is left standing."

The elves pranced lightly on the balls of their feet. Ready to fight and die for what they knew they were protecting. Thranduil knew he had to speak no more, for they were strengthened by his few words. This was truly the difference between men and elves. One never knew with humans when they felt renewed and energized. But with elves one could always sense it.

He took his position in front of his men. He would be the first to die if necessary. He heard the sound of two galloping horses. Horses were scarce and decidedly not to be used in the immediate offense of the alliance. They were saved for the last moment of defense, when nothing else could save them.

* * *

I turned my ear slightly towards the horses before lifting my eyes up to see those who approached. Elrond slid off of his unsaddled horse next to me, his hair pulled back from his eyes, thick armor surfacing his chest and a helmet on his head. 

"Thranduil."

He acknowledged me quietly. I noticed Glorfindel in his usual place behind Elrond, ready and prepared to do the duty he had been charged by the Valar. As they came closer, the dark haired elf grabbed my arm and held me in a brotherly manner. I did not enjoy physical touches from anyone other than my son, yet he was bold enough to reach out.

"If anything happens to me, Thranduil…" His voice was soft; I could feel his heart breaking with every word. "My wife, my two sons. Promise me you will watch over them."

I found myself using my free hand to touch his shoulder. "I swear it, Elrond."

He seemed somewhat relieved by my promise, though I found myself wondering why I did not. I was more likely to die than him. He had a protector; I had the Valar, and they had done very little for me. Before I could stop myself, I spoke: "Will you swear that you will watch over Legolas and take care of him, should I be willed by the Valar to Mandos?"

Elrond didn't hesitate, and nodded his affirmation. "I swear it."

"May the Valar give you strength," I said quietly.

"May the Valar protect you," he responded.

Glorfindel was near enough to hear our conversation, and I let my eyes make contact with him. "I pray we will never see each other in Mandos."

"It was miserable," Glorfindel smiled tightly. "I have no intentions of returning. Nobody else here should have to be taken there."

A trumpet from the distance sounded. It was a sign that all commanders should return to their legions and begin to advance. Elrond caught my eye one last time, fraternal love shining through the grey pools. Somehow I felt as if I might lose a brother that I never had. He leapt deftly upon his horse and rode swiftly back to his command. I turned my own eyes to face the battle ahead.

It was going to be a bloody battle.

The first row of arrows came down on us; my men and I were deftly behind our large shields which protected us sufficiently from the potentially fatal assault. After the first attack from the arrows had thinned, I gave my archers the order to fire on anything that moved. The other men and I prepared our shields and swords as we waited for the first wave. It came sooner than we expected.

Our enemy was disgusting, and for the first time I found pleasure in killing. My body responded in a graceful manner. The moves that I had been taught by my instructors came out in fluid movements. I had nothing to worry about; I was safe, until I became tired.

I heard a cry to my right. I looked just in time to see one of my archers fall from an arrow that had gone straight through his head. Fury overcame me, and I fought without thinking. Grace had little to do with it now.

As I attacked the creatures over and over I thought little else but of revenge against my father. The anger that had welled up inside of me began to pour out in torrents, giving me the energy to fight. My men apparently fed off of that energy.

As my anger burned less and less, the energy that I once had left me. I felt weakened and drained. Looking at the sky I knew that we had been fighting for over four hours. Even the most seasoned of warriors would find it difficult to continue over such strenuous fighting, but wave after wave poured into my men and the alliance.

I lost count of the waves; my mind became unconscious after a time. I almost did things mechanically. I watched my men fall besides me. Some of them I knew dearly, others I had met only briefly. I kept my eye open for Aramas. Thankfully every time I looked he always had my back and I his.

The creatures came stronger and stronger and I became weaker and weaker. I lost count of how many times I felt the poisoned blades of the enemy descend upon my immortal skin. I lost count of how much blood I had lost. I only had one thought left in me, protect my son.

Suddenly time stopped. Everything froze. Then suddenly a bright light exploded and the ground opened. For a moment I thought this was what death would look like. I was wrong. This was death, but not for me. The ground had swallowed the creatures up. It spread like wild fire, killing off our foes faster than any dozen of elves could. I knew that the battle was over. But who had survived?

Everyone was in shock. I found myself a rock and sat heavily upon it, leaning on my sword sticking into the ground. It was the only thing keeping me from collapsing and giving up for death.

It seemed like hours passed as I sat. I didn't know what to do. Bury the dead? I sat and watched, my mind too much of a daze to accomplish much. Solider boys ran around calling to healers after checking each man and elf on the field. Most were having something laid over their body as a sign of death. I slowly began to move around my men, seeing who was alive and who had died.

I returned to my rock to find Aramas leaning against it, his mind as dazed as mine. I sat heavily on the rock and patted his shoulder. He had survived, and for this I was grateful. I heard the sound of footsteps behind me; I turned slowly to find Elrond. I offered a small smile. Elrond was covered in dark blood of orcs, his hair full of mud and Valar knows what else.

I didn't offer any greetings, and he didn't either.

* * *

"The Lord of Lothlorien has been killed. As has High King Gil-galad." 

"What exactly happened back there? Did the Valar come to our aid?"

"Isildur. He destroyed him."

"Is it over? All of it?" Aramas asked. Elrond didn't have to answer, for a loud shout came from behind him. Thranduil and Aramas both shifted their weight to look behind, only to find Glorfindel dancing around the dead bodies of orcs.

"How does he find the energy to do that?" Aramas questioned rhetorically.

Glorfindel jumped over three bodies of humans to grab a healer and dance in circles with him.

"Good Valar, he's still alive?" Thranduil asked sarcastically.

Elrond chuckled. "Glad to see you're still alive."

"I think I am too," Thranduil answered lightly, a smile gracing his features.

As Elrond returned the smile, a young elf entered into their vision. He limped slowly towards them and looked the royal immortal in the eye. "Are you Thranduil son of Oropher, King of Greenwood?"

Thranduil narrowed his eyes at him. "I am. Who are you? What message do you bring from my father?"

The elf did not answer but swiftly kneeled and drew out a sword. "Your father was killed in the battle, m'lord. You are the rightful king of Greenwood the Great."

Thranduil stood slowly. "He is dead…"

"Yes, my king."

"Rise," Thranduil spoke softly.

"I was there sir, when your father was dying. He died quickly but I was near him. He told me to give you his sword."

Thranduil took the sword from the squire and looked at it. It was bloodied with orc blood. It had several jewels encrusted in the hilt, and he shook his head as he looked at the young elf. "You take it, give it to your children and tell them about this battle. Make sure they never forget it."

The squire took the sword slowly and held it, unsure of what to do. The emotion that crossed his face was unreadable. "My Lord, the rest of the army will escort you to Greenwood."

"Thank you," Thranduil smiled slightly, "but tell the men to return to their homes and their families. I can escort myself home. I must return to my son, he is residing in Lothlorien at the moment."

The elf nodded and turned around to walk away before stopping again. "My Lord, your father… Before he died, he told me to give this to you as well."

The elf pulled a small necklace from his pocket. It was a mithril pendant with a small object hanging on the end of it. It was his mother's ring. The same ring he gave to Elranna.

"He also said for me to tell you that he was sorry."

Thranduil inhaled sharply as he grasped the necklace in his hand. The blood on his hand marred the mithril slightly, but it was his wife's ring. His love. Nothing else mattered.

He felt his eyes shut and his body crumble. Somehow in the back of his mind he heard the voice of Elrond and the sound of Aramas catching him. But he did not care; his body was exhausted from the loss of blood and excursion. But they had the won the battle, he was king, and his ring had returned.

_THE END_

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Did you enjoy it? Did I please you? Please write a review, even though I don't deserve it. Thanks for sticking with the story.

Anyways I hope you guys will stick around for the sequel. I promise it will be longer! With more cameo apperances to!


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